


Alte Hunde

by wynter123321



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Canon-Typical Violence, Cunnilingus, Dom/sub Undertones, Dragon Genji Shimada, Multi, Past Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Build, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Werewolf Jesse McCree, mentions of torture, werewolf reinhardt, will tag as it goes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-08-08 09:50:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 39,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7752862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wynter123321/pseuds/wynter123321
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reinhardt is already an old dog when Jesse McCree, a young, wily pup, joins Blackwatch.  It has been a long time since Reinhardt has ran into another wolf and as such he wishes to befriend this Jesse McCree.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. New Territory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2018 update: So it's been almost a year since I've touched this fic. In a way, I still love this story and have an outline the stretches far into the current overwatch time, but I'm honestly just not as into the game as I used to be. I'm not saying this story will never be updated, on occasion I do still chunk out a little bit of the next chapter, but I've lost a lot of ability to focus on it anymore. Thank you to the folks that have stuck through it this long and I'm sorry I don't have more for you. Newcomers, I understand if chapter one is where it ends for you now that I have this update here. Either way, thanks for taking the time to check out my fics at all and I hope you enjoy them!

Reinhardt is chatting with Captain Amari over some lunch and tea when it hits him. A scent thick in the air like a fog. His nose scrunches and his eyebrows pinch together. He knows the smell despite it being so long since he’s caught the scent last. Another wolf. There is another wolf on base. His mind races at the prospect. Part of him desires to welcome this fellow beast while another half has instincts firing off. This guest has encroached on his territory and his teeth itch as his blood tells him this is a grave error on their part. Reinhardt is a gentle man though and a greeting is more appropriate than what his teeth desire. After all, it has been so long since he has seen another wolf.

“Are you alright, Reinhardt? You look like somebody insulted your currywurst again.” Ana’s brow is raised. It’s clear on her face that she knows he hasn’t caught anything she just said. Her eyes watch his jaw work, grinding tooth against tooth. The sniper’s keen eye misses nothing. Reinhardt breaks from his thoughts to look at her again. He is relieved for a short moment Emotions and instinct could not turn him so easily to his beastial form. A result of age and bloodlines. He knows Ana is aware of his wolven nature, but that was no reason to worry her or potentially endanger this newcomer he smells.

“It’s nothing to trouble you with, my friend. I am afraid I must go though. There is business to attend to.” Reinhardt sees it doesn’t convince her, but leaves anyway. Tracking the scent is easy, keeping his mind clear is not. The musk is heavy and young, clearly lingering from multiple days without wash. His mind is practically swimming, but he’s sure this other beast must feel similarly. Perhaps it is scenting defensively? Perhaps this stranger feels threatened? It could be a hostile taken in from a mission after all. Reinhardt shakes the thoughts out, trying to focus on the task at hand. His tracking leads him to Captain Morrison’s office door. The door swings open just as he arrives and Gabriel Reyes steps out, accompanied by a kid Reinhardt has never seen before.

“Wilhelm. This is Jesse McCree, potential Blackwatch. If he fucks up while I’m not around you tell me.” Reyes is strict with his words, always direct, with little in the ways of kindness. Reinhardt nods before turning his sights to this Jesse McCree. The kid is scrappy looking in his too loose outlaw clothes. Couldn’t be older than 18, likely younger. Too young to be an Overwatch soldier. Definitely too young to be doing what Blackwatch does. He looks angry and scared and cocky like a dog raised in the fighting pit backed into a corner. Reinhardt smiles at him warmly, but their eyes meet in a recognizing manner. Both know what the other is, what they have in common. Reinhardt can see the boy barely containing his human form in the cloud of emotions running through him. Reinhardt’s scent, he realizes, is likely making matters worse. He remains human looking, but his shaking and the small drop of blood from his hand tells a different story. Sharp claws nervously digging into skin. This kid’s in way over his head.

“Such a young pup to be fighting with us. Do not let Gabriel run you down too much huh, pup? It would be a shame for such a young face to look so battle hardened as his.” Part of him wants to ruffle the boy’s hair, but decides it’s best not to if he wants to keep all his fingers. Gabriel’s brow remains furrowed and his mouth stays the same hard, straight line. He’s observing the situation, calculating as always. Reyes puts a hand on McCree’s shoulder and begins leading him away.

“I have to cut this little welcoming short. I have a base tour to give before introducing him to the other Blackwatch members.” Gabriel says curtly before turning from Reinhardt completely. He doesn’t like the way Reyes says introducing, it feels looming. He’s worried for this kid, McCree, getting into something he doesn’t at all seem prepared for. Reinhardt tries to assure himself that Reyes would not take in someone who wasn’t a fit for Blackwatch. He wonders if Gabriel knows of the boy’s nature as he watches the two down the hallway. Reinhardt steps into Jack’s office.

“How old is that boy, Jack? Seventeen? Eighteen?” Reinhardt closes the door as he speaks. Morrison sighs, clearly worn already. The patches of grey at his temples serve to make him look even more frazzled. 

“He’s not the innocent child he may look, Reinhardt. The kid was pulled from the Deadlock Gang in the last Blackwatch sting. It was either this or a life in prison. He chose this.” Jack’s talk does little to calm Reinhardt. Instead it makes him angrier.

“Of course he chose this! He was given a choice between cutting a finger off or the whole hand. This does not mean it is right, Jack. You know this just as well as I do.” 

“You know I have no control ov-” Reinhardt leaves before he can finish, almost slamming the door off the wall. Morrison is left stunned in his office. A mix of guilt and anger swirl in Reinhardt. He has to run tonight, has to get this energy out and be an animal for just a little while.

\----

The cool night air is refreshing despite the small lingering scent of another wolf. Reinhardt is glad that the base isn’t in the city so he can easily escape to the countryside and disappear into the night for a little while. He looks back at the base a moment before stripping his clothes off. They’re left folded neatly in the lock box he keeps at the edge of the base for nights like this. He takes a single look back at the base before a deep breath. Bone and muscle shift under his skin in a pain he’s grown used to. His hands hit the ground as he hunches over, their nails lengthening into fine points. A shaggy greying tail swishes in the cold air happily. Reinhardt stretches the toes of his paws, feeling the hard ground beneath him. A long inhale brings all the scents of the night into his lungs before they are forced out in an equally long howl. He bolts from the base with no destination in mind.

Soft grass and mud are trampled under the weight of the giant wolf. He knows he will be a terrifying sight if anyone spots him, a horse-sized wolf, running around. He pushes away the thought in favour of chasing a moth around the field. He bounds in the tall grass with all the oversized grace of a great dane. A long maw snaps in the air just below a fluttering bug. His furry back hits the damp ground. He rolls into the feeling, letting the wet dirt coat his hide. A few more short, joyous howls escape his throat, but he cuts it short. Another howl. Not his own. His long ears perk up and he rolls back onto his paws. His ears rotate on his head in search of where the noise came from. The faint padding of another pawed animal is coming towards him. The scent is a familiar one. McCree.

Another wolf, much smaller than Reinhardt, jumps onto him from behind a bush just as the name comes to mind. Reinhardt pants happily at the company. He lets out a few barks in greeting and is met with a few in return. Jesse jumps off of him then runs a few steps in front of him. He looks back at Reinhardt, tilting his head. Reinhardt puts his front paws down and leans to the ground playfully before tilting his head back. Jesse barks and wags his tail in reply. It’s an instinctual language the two share, no words, no complicated social cues, no rank, just two wolves playing. The joyful thrill pulses in their chests for the first time in a long time. Jesse darts off in front of Reinhardt. The pup is full of energy. The sight of a young wolf has not graced Reinhardt’s eye for some time, perhaps since before Overwatch. Every bit of blood and sinew in his body feels younger in its presence. Reinhardt chases after Jesse. The two of them bark and howl at each other as they cover the length of the field many times over. The two play as though raised in the same litter. The cool air bristles their fur and the moon shines over them.

Jesse turns on a dime and jumps at Reinhardt who allows himself to be taken to the ground. They paw at each other playfully. Nips and small scratches are felt by both, but neither reach past thick fur. Reinhardt’s mouth catches McCree’s neck carefully in their play, barely applying pressure. Jesse freezes in place. His posture goes from playful pup to frightened prey in an instant. Reinhardt lets go of Jesse immediately and rolls to put his head down on the ground. Jesse backs away a few feet before running back to base. Reinhardt gets back onto his paws. His eye follows the trail back, but no effort is made to run after the pup. He knows now is not the time.

Reinhardt stays out for a while longer. He thinks back over the situation while gazing at the moon and stars. This new pup had not lived an easy life, he can tell. Such cruelty would meet his friend no longer if he could help it. A promise howled only to the night.

\----

The morning is quiet and calm. There are a few mumbled complaints about howling and dogs barking, but nobody seems any the wiser. Reinhardt makes his way to the mess hall for coffee. On his way to the coffee bar he grabs a plate full of the small breakfast sausages he enjoys so much. His good eye scans over the tables until he spots a cowboy hat. A short debate wages in his head over the merits of joining the boy at his table. Rich, dark coffee pours from the machine into his cup as he debates. He pours milk and sugar into the coffee until it tastes more like the two ingredients than coffee. Reyes is sitting with Jesse; a mug of black coffee sits in front of the man. It is probably best he doesn’t join them. Reyes only drinks black coffee on days he expects to be rough. Probably the pup’s first training day. Reinhardt instead goes to sit with Ana once again.

“Good to see you, Reinhardt. Are you going to run off again today?” Ana’s tone is playful, though pointed. Her face looks happy, but worry tugs at the edges of her smile. Reinhardt feels bad for leaving her.

“As it is to see you. I do not think I’ll be running away anytime soon. I can’t help if my nose gets the better of me sometimes, my friend.” Reinhardt grins. It isn’t a lie, right? Just not the full story. He can’t just let everyone know McCree is also a werewolf. Most people don’t even know he’s one and no matter what it isn’t his story to tell.

“Your nose, huh? I suppose wolves really are just big dogs after all.” She laughs as does Reinhardt. “So what was it, huh? A stray cat wander onto base? Somebody throw out some steak leftovers?”

Reinhardt shakes his head, but his smile remains. He spots McCree with his head turned, listening. Gabriel catches the kid no longer listening and pulls his plate away to dine on. Something about if he isn’t going to pay attention others will take advantage. Reinhardt points a finger up as a “one moment” to Ana. Her brow furrows at him leaving her once again. He picks up his plate and takes the remaining sausages over to McCree’s table as an olive branch out of his own distaste for Reyes’ teaching methods.

“However, with friends at your side they may just have your back.” Reyes is scowling at him as a small trail of egg yolk drips down his chin. He’s working to swallow the mouthful and jump down Reinhardt’s throat, but Reinhardt is already walking away. He hears what Reyes tells Jesse before reaching his own table again.

“Don’t count on friends in Blackwatch. I am not your friend and they are not your friends. Got it, kid?” Reinhardt can’t do anything about what Gabriel says, all he can do is hope McCree takes the olive branch. He turns his attentions back to the questioning face of Ana Amari.

“I found no cat or steak, just a lost pup.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks ohayo noon for the beta!


	2. On Two Legs and Four

A busy month passes. Missions, training, paperwork, then more training. Jesse is spotted sparsely, but Reyes keeps him on a short leash. Reinhardt understands on one hand that McCree is a former gang member and as such easily falls into the young punk category, something that has to be worked out for him to function in Blackwatch. However, he dislikes the treatment of somebody so young. It doesn’t help that he wants to know more about Jesse McCree. It is torture to smell another wolf around the base without ever getting to interact more than just a smile or wave. He also wants to know more about what happened that night in the grass.

His chance comes on a hot afternoon walking into one of the training areas of the base. He’d waved to Ana as she was leaving the area a few minutes earlier. He assumed it was empty after she left as most of the time training during the day like this was done solo. He finds Jesse McCree still in the training area shooting at bots. McCree mistakes him for Amari returning.

“You see the last one, Cap? Right in the eye! Or lens I guess.” 

“I’m afraid I’m not so small or pretty as Captain Amari, but I did see the shot. It was a good one! I was never so good with a gun, then this eye got damaged and I was even worse!” Reinhardt laughs heartily. Jesse turns to him in surprise, but smiles. The smile is cautious, but McCree is made comfortable by the gun in his hand. Reinhard sets his hammer down by a crate and takes a seat on it.

“I thought that since she left the place was empty. Don’t let me interrupt your training though, pup. I’m sure it’s needed for Blackwatch. Perhaps I can help?” Reinhardt offers. McCree thinks on the offer for a long moment before speaking.

“What’d you have in mind?”

“I hit something your way, you shoot it. It is good for team work. And quick thinking!” Reinhardt is glad to be around McCree again, but the desire to question what happened before gnaws at him. He pushes it aside. Can’t just blindside the boy the first chance he gets. McCree imagines the set up before nodding.

“That’ll do. Ready when you are. Reinhardt, was it? I think I heard that around base somewhere.” 

“I forgot that we were never properly introduced! Reyes is not much one for such niceties.” Reinhardt hauls himself from the crate and extends a hand to McCree. “Reinhardt Wilhelm at your service, though Reinhardt is just as well.”

McCree eyes the hand warily before grasping it to shake.

“You already know I’m Jesse McCree. I’ll go by either part, but most just call me McCree. Good to have a proper introduction.” He shakes the large hand that engulfs his own then lets go. He’s a little easier knowing that Reinhardt didn’t try anything, but he keeps an eye out and a hand at his holster while Reinhardt grabs his hammer. Reinhardt is very aware of the hand on McCree’s gun. He’s seen the thumb ready to pull the hammer back, fingers ready to draw. He’s fully aware that McCree is baring teeth in as human a way as he can. Reinhardt is a gentle man, though. A patient man. He grabs his hammer slowly and makes a wide circle around McCree, keeping him out of swinging range. A territorial dance the two know well in wolf form, playing out when there’s no tails to tuck. Jesse’s thumb moves off the hammer. Reinhardt positions himself near the paths of a couple bots.

“Are you prepared McCree?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

One bot gets into range and Reinhardt swings. The bot hurtles toward McCree who shoots it easily. It collapses onto the ground. McCree grins, but has little time to process a second training bot flying his way. A panic shot hits its mark, but just barely. Reinhardt pins the third in order to reposition and send another to McCree. It’s down before it can move more than a few feet. The first few reboot and McCree rolls away from them just in time for a bolt of fire to take them out again.

“Good roll, McCree! Another coming up.” Reinhardt sends this one to McCree’s side. He flashbangs it and shoots another before shooting the stunned one.

“Keep ‘em coming, Reinhardt!” McCree’s initial caution is put aside. Reinhardt does as instructed and keeps flinging bots at Jesse. He hits most, misses a few, and nearly takes one to the face. Reinhardt apologizes profusely, but neither stop for too long. Grins mark their faces and laughter echoes in the training room. The two keep it up for another hour before collapsing on some crates. Sweat pours from their brows. Their gear, especially Reinhardt’s hammer, seem to weigh more than ever.

“You shoot well, my friend. Ana has been teaching you some, ja?” Reinhardt says through heavy breaths.

“She’s teachin’ me some. Reyes has me for all the tactical know how and she’s got me for aiming. Can you believe she’s practically a three gun champ? No surprise I reckon, but I never took her for it. Says she did it for training. Never know what’ll happen in the field, gotta be good with whatever ya got an’ all that.” The admiration is clear in McCree’s voice. Reinhardt can’t blame him though. Captain Amari is a keen, fiery woman more skilled than most anyone on the base. Arguments could be made for Reyes or Morrison, but as far as Reinhardt was concerned she had them beat.

“She is an amazing woman and a good friend, you are lucky to have her as a teacher.” Reinhardt smiles. “Ah, but enough about our great lady Amari, would you like to grab something to eat? All of this training has me starving!”

“Sure thing, Reinhardt. I’m hungry enough to eat the north end of a south bound goat.” McCree laughs. Reinhardt raises a brow at the strange phrase, but laughs as well. The two make their way to the mess hall, stopping only briefly to drop Reinhardt’s hammer off in his room. The hall’s empty, but Reinhardt offers to cook. McCree waves him off and tells him to sit down before he breaks a hip. He laughs and takes a seat outside of the kitchen.

“I’ve picked up a little cookin’ here and there, nothin’ to write home about mind you, but it’s edible.” McCree says as he eyes the inside of a large fridge. Most of it’s stuff he either doesn’t know well enough to cook or things he doesn’t feel like eating. He spots some corn cobs and pulls them out. He also grabs some sour cream and is amazed when they have the cheese he needs. He searches the kitchen, but finds no garlic. He does find cilantro, though and a handful of limes. Jesse is also surprised to find chili powder. His guess is that most of it was specially requested by somebody. He shrugs it off though and turns on the oven.

Reinhardt watches him curiously. McCree clearly had a recipe in mind, but not one he could remember having before. His good eye follows as McCree whisks sour cream and cheese together with mayonnaise, tossing in a generous amount of cilantro. There’s no measurement involved, just memory and feeling. The oven dings in short time and McCree puts the cobs onto the rack before disappearing back into the fridge for butter that gets set out for later. He looks at home in the kitchen, Reinhardt thinks. McCree takes a seat on the counter across from Reinhardt.

“Just some corn like my ma used to make. It’s a little different since I’ve picked a few things up and we didn’t have some things. Should still taste good, though.” McCree almost sounds like he’s afraid of what will happen if it doesn’t. The thought concerns Reinhardt, but he knows it’s not his place to ask; not yet at least.

“I’m sure it will be delicious! If anything it will be better than what they serve for dinner normally. Certainly could not be worse.”

“You’re not jokin’! I’ve ate a whole lotta things I ain’t proud of, but at least all of it had seasonin’.” The two discuss the fine and not so fine points of base food until the corn cobs are ready. McCree takes them out and sets them on a tray. He peels back the husks to butter each one heavily. Each one gets a large helping of the cheese mix spread on it before being coated with a final layer of chili powder. It’s one of the most appetizing things Reinhardt’s ever seen, but that may be his stomach talking a little. Jesse squeezes some lime juice on them before bringing the tray out to a table. They both make quick work of cleaning up while the corn cools enough to eat. It’s still warm when they sit down to eat. 

Reinhardt is the first one to take a bite. Jesse watches fixedly, waiting for reaction. The corn is amazing. Reinhardt can only manage a thumbs up, not wanting to pull away from the delicious food. McCree smiles before grabbing a cob for himself. Both are so hungry that there’s little speaking during the meal. The only sound is that of the two chowing down and the occasional “oh my god” muffled by corn. Eventually the two finish and lean back in their chairs to wallow in their fullness. A long silence is broken by Reinhardt.

“I would hate to ruin such a good time, but it has been on my mind since the night we ran. Did I hurt you? I did not think I bit down so hard, but if I did I would like to apologize, it was not my intention to cause harm.” McCree’s demeanor is that of a cornered dog once more under the gaze of Reinhardt. His mind is split between finding a way to run and finding a way to talk himself out of the situation. A small part of him itches to explain, but to do so would show a weakness, show his belly to an unfamiliar acquaintance. Sure this large man was friendly enough, they’d laughed together, had run together. That doesn’t mean he isn’t a potential threat though. Just as Reinhardt is ready to apologize for bringing it up and change the subject McCree replies.

“I have a thing about my neck is all.” Reinhardt can tell by his looks that it isn’t all. He doesn’t push the subject further. He’s been fighting long enough to know the looks of panic in somebody else. Jesse is a kid, he has no doubt, but something from before, perhaps the Deadlock Gang, chewed him up and spit him out before he was even legal to vote. He’s a kicked dog. Something that’ll take time and careful effort to gain the trust of.

“I apologize for my mistake. If you ever wish to go for a run again I’ll be sure to avoid it. Do not hesitate to tell me if I have overstepped my bounds, friend. You are younger yes, but I am no authority. We are equals on two legs and four.” He knows the words may not make it to him yet, but he knows they may eventually.

McCree nods at him. “Thank ya kindly.” The words are out of politeness rather than actual regard for what Reinhardt is saying. He appreciates the words, but it’s not something he’ll do right now. Belly up to a strange wolf is no way to be.

“We oughta talk about this whole wolf thing sometime. Been a good long while since I seen another wolf that wasn’t tryin’ to rip somethin’ off me. Right now though we oughta clean this meal up before the cooks come in for dinner and we get a scalpin’ for taking base food.” Reinhardt nods in agreement.

“You sit. You cooked the meal, it would be impolite for me to let you clean it up as well.” Reinhardt carries the tray outside and tosses the cobs to the birds. It seems a waste to let them rot in the garbage. When he returns McCree is no longer at their table. Reinhardt sighs, but understands. He washes the tray in solitary silence, puts it up, and leaves to find new company.

\----

McCree finds himself hiding out in his room for reasons he can’t fully process. His chest feels tight around his lungs and heart. It’s like any second his ribcage is gonna collapse in on itself. It’s a familiar feeling though no less terrible. Panic. He pulls out his gun. A ritual when he gets like this. Safety clicks on. Fingers press to release the swing out cylinder. One, two, three, four, five, six. His thumb brushes over each bullet as he counts. His hands shake as he counts again. He has six shots, six bullets, like teeth digging into flesh. His now pointed nails scrape over the gun metal. His hands shake more with the threat of changing.

“Fuck.” Little more than a whisper in a dark room. His mind floats in thoughts. Shouldn’t have let Reinhardt practice with him. Shouldn’t have stayed for a meal. But he liked the food. He was friendly. Nice. His chest tightens more at another thought. What if he hadn’t? What then, McCree? What then, Mutt. The word sears at the back of his tongue. Six shots. Six bullets. Teeth into flesh. He feels the cartilage in his ears stretch and shift painfully under his skin. His own teeth ache with a need like bullets.

Reinhardt apologized to him. The words ring like a church bell in his head. He had been given control over the situation. A realization amidst panic. His chest loosens its hard grip on his lungs only slightly. His neck burns like fire in a ring hidden by the bandana on his neck. He counts the bullets again before rolling the cylinder back in place. Safety off. The gun goes in the drawer by his bed. He needs sleep. The mix of coming down after panicking and almost shifting rips the energy from him. He curls into his bed, his neck still tingling with heat. Sleep comes slowly. He hears the apology in his dreams.

“I apologize for my mistake.”

“Tell me if I have overstepped my bounds, friend.”

“We are equals.”

“Friend.”

\----

Gabriel Reyes passes the mess hall just in time to spot the two finishing up a meal. He hangs around just long enough to see Reinhardt take a tray of corn outside and watch as McCree dashes out of another door. His brows pinch together. Keen eyes follow Reinhardt’s entrance back into the mess. They watch him falter at the realization Jesse has left. There is no visible reason for McCree to run off like he did. Gabriel turns away from the mess hall to see where his recruit ran off to. 

He avoids coming to conclusions so quickly. Reinhardt has never been known for cruelty. Even though he enjoys fighting, his moral compass is impeccable. Something Reyes cannot even try to claim. Gabriel scoffs. He may be the one they send in to do the dirty work, but that doesn’t mean he only watches out for himself. McCree is his recruit. His responsibility. He will not have Reinhardt running him off.

McCree is easy to track and not yet perceptive enough to catch onto Reyes following him. Gabriel is little more than a ghost shadowing McCree on his way to his dorm. Gabriel stops near the door to listen. The sounds of metal perk up his ears. His fingers tense preparing to bust in if needed. Counting. It ends at six. It doesn’t take much for Gabe to put together the kid counting bullets. It’s a worrying thought. Gabriel knows Jesse McCree well enough to assume he’s not going to hurt himself, but not well enough to be a hundred on it. Another word is said, but too quiet to make out. Another metal click. Steps. A drawer.

Gabriel lets out a soft sigh. The kid’ll be alright for now. He makes a mental note to be a little easier in training tomorrow. Expect no less than usual, but perhaps grill McCree a little less. He walks away from the door quietly and heads toward his office to prepare for tomorrow. On his way he spots Reinhardt talking with Torbjorn. He looks jovial as usual, but he catches the small hints of worry. He makes another mental note to confront him sometime soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have ideas of where this is going between now and where I want it to end (many chapters from there) and I want it to be known there's gonna be a few ships with Reinhardt and McCree before they become Reinhardt&McCree. It'll probs be a few chapters from now (sorry to those here for the smut!), but it'll be happening. Mostly I still want to write some smut here and there, but I don't really feel comfortable writing it while in the story McCree is still 17. We'll get to McCree and Reinhardt going at it eventually, just when McCree grows up a bit.


	3. Like a Dog on the Run

Reinhardt is watering the planter outside of his dorm when he notices Gabriel walking up to him. The walk is casual, calm, but his demeanor is that of a jaguar readying to pierce the skull of its prey. Reinhardt sets his watering can down and turns to face him. He braces for whatever is coming his way, but makes no move to put up a fight. It’s been the better part of a week since McCree disappeared after their meal. Reinhardt has not forgotten about it, but he’s set it aside for time to deal with. Patience is a bitter plant, but it bears sweet fruit. He also isn’t sure if that’s why Reyes is here. They’d been alone during their meal as far as he was aware. He can’t think of another reason Reyes would be here though. Gabriel stops a foot away from him, glaring up.

“You know why the kid keeps avoiding you? Why he thinks he has to count his bullets after leaving you? Huh, _perro_?” Reinhardt’s brows shoot up his face. Had he really been so threatening? So intimidating?

“What?” It’s all he can manage as his mind tries to figure out what happened.

“You heard me. I will not repeat myself.” He steps forward, keeps Reinhardt on guard. He knows the drill, knows how to get the information he wants. Reinhardt is not having it, though. He shifts forward to keep his ground. The move isn’t out of anger. It’s a reminder to Reyes that he is no spring chicken and knows the drill just as well.

“I heard you well, but I was unaware I frightened McCree so much. It was not my intention to do so. If you’ll hear it I would be glad to explain my side of this.” He gestures to the door to his room. “Preferably where less ears can drop in on us.”

Reyes thinks on it for a long moment. His eyes scrutinize every inch of Reinhardt for any signs of deceit or ill intentions. Nothing visible.

“My office is better. The dorms have thin walls, my office doesn’t.” Reinhardt nods in agreement and follows Gabriel. The setting puts him on guard even more, but he assumes Gabriel will at least hear him out. They arrive shortly with a few looks here and there. It is no secret that Reinhardt and Gabriel rarely see eye to eye so seeing Reinhardt follow Reyes into his office is odd. Nobody investigates further in fear of catching Reyes’ bad side. 

Reinhardt sits uncomfortably in the small chair in front of Gabriel’s desk. The whole office is clearly made for people of normal stature. No surprise. Reinhardt’s height isn’t exactly common. Gabriel sits in his desk chair across from Reinhardt. He leans back and places his boots on the desk.

“So talk. You want me to hear you out, my ears are open.”

“The night of McCree’s arrival I went for a run in the field outside of the base. He showed up unexpectedly and we ran together for a while. At one point we ended up wrestling in the grass, all play though, no aggression. I caught the back of his neck just as I would anyone else and he froze. Not the kind where you know you’re beat, or too worn to keep going. The kind like a cowering dog.” Gabriel listens intently. As far as he is concerned this is an interrogation without bindings. He sees the signs that some of Reinhardt’s story is inaccurate, but waits for the finish to say anything.

Reinhardt goes on to explain McCree running away after he let go of him, bumping into him in the training room and training together, sharing lunch, and any other details he thinks are pertinent without mentioning the wolf thing. Gabriel knows he’s a wolf, but he isn’t sure Gabriel knows McCree is a wolf. 

Gabriel had actually figured Reinhardt’s wolven nature himself. He’d noticed Reinhardt up late. Every night he’d be up there’d be howling and barking. At first he’d just thought Reinhardt had been feeding a stray, playing with it, getting it riled up. It wouldn’t be out of character. He went to check it out one night as an excuse to leave his room and stretch his legs. Reinhardt was nowhere to be seen. However, a massive wolf was running around the outside of the base. He ducked down behind a pillar, watching the giant beast. His knee hit soft padding instead of hard concrete. A bundle of neatly folded clothes padded his landing and upon closer inspection they were Reinhardt’s. He moved quickly up a nearby staircase until he reached the roof access for a better vantage point with less likelihood of being seen. Gabriel watched from his spot on the roof as the wolf in the field closed in on the base. Its body shifted unnaturally as it got closer. The fur receded. The tail shrank into the body and the paws contorted into hands and feet. The beast was human. Reinhardt. Standing fully naked in front of the base. Gabriel snuck out a few more times to confirm he wasn’t seeing things. His last time out he stayed by Reinhardt’s clothes and waited for him. The conversation lasted probably an hour which Reinhardt spent the duration of naked answering questions.

Gabriel shakes the memory from his head before returning his steely gaze to Reinhardt. He assumes the wrestling was actually the two wolves playing. One of the reasons he even gave McCree the option of Blackwatch was because the boy is a wolf. The nose could be a useful commodity on missions as could the rest of it. Another was his conditions and age.

“The Deadlock Gang treated him more like a pet dog than a person.” Reinhardt’s ears perk up while his stomach sinks at the thought. “He was found with a collar on. Didn’t look like it’d been taken off since the first time it was put on. McCree was still one of them, part of the gang, but he wasn’t a person to them. Not fully. That’s how he made it sound anyway. They were all buddy buddy until he shifted once in a panic and after that it was expected more and more.” 

Reinhardt’s anger is clear on his face. Shifters face danger from humans more often than any like to think about.

“He broke down a couple of weeks ago after training and told me about it. He lost his bandana during a roll. Something about it set him off and he nearly turned right then and there. Right after he got the bandana back on he started counting his bullets. It seemed to calm him down. After your lunch he ran off to his room and I heard him counting then, too. I assume because he was starting to shift. Is that common, turning due to panic? Understand that I need to know for the safety of my operatives as well as his safety.” Reye’s tone goes from something close to worry straight back to military business with ease.

“This is not something we discuss with humans. I hate to be so old fashioned, but I cannot trust you will not use such information should you run into other shifters during Blackwatch business. I cannot knowingly endanger others.” Reinhardt’s voice is stone. An unwavering guard. Reyes’ rolls his eyes. It’s a solid reason, but it didn’t give him anything.

“Will you at least tell me if I should expect him to shift every time he gets worked up. Presumably he has control over himself in wolf form? You seem to.” Gabriel questions further.

“He is prone to emotional changes it would seem. I have smelt him scent a number of times as though in danger and that would explain it well enough. He has control over himself that I’ve seen, but I have not seen him as a wolf more than once. That is as much as I can say.” Reyes nods. They both have a lot to think over and nothing more to discuss.

“That is as much as I need to know then. You’re dismissed.” Reinhardt pulls himself from the small chair. Just before leaving he turns back to Gabriel for a moment.

“I will not ever harm McCree so long as I can help it. I expect the same of you, Gabriel, and will not hesitate to take action if this expectation is not met.” With that he leaves.

\----

“Did you practice more after I left yesterday? I ran into Reinhardt on the way out and wasn’t sure if you would keep going if somebody interrupted.” Ana questions like a teacher asking a student if they did homework. McCree doesn’t answer. He’s focused on the training bots in front of him, trying to pinpoint where he needs to shoot to kill each one before he starts shooting. Ana waits a moment before speaking again. 

“Reinhardt is a good man, you know? A big teddy bear, really. We have been friends almost since the beginning.” She trails off a moment thinking of a way to break McCree’s focus. If he can’t focus through her banter she can’t trust him to focus in the field. He is doing good so far, so she needs to make it a little harder on him.

“We tried being more than friends once.” She sees the shift in his ears and smirks. Got him. “Still are sometimes. He really is bi-”

“Aw hell, Captain Amari. Why’re you tellin’ me all this. I don’t need to be thinkin’ about you and the big guy and how ‘big’ he really is while I’m tryin’ to shoot. I don’t need to be thinkin’ about it ever.” McCree lets his gun fall to his side as he turns to her. His face is a red mix of disgust and exasperation. Ana wonders if the disgust is over her or Reinhardt. Perhaps both. She laughs either way. She settles enough to speak again.

“Your focus is too easily broken, Jesse. Go ahead and set up again.” A few more chuckles escape her.

“Shit. All that was jus’ you yankin’ my chain, Cap? Probably not even true.” McCree huffs. The redness of his face isn’t helped by the tinge of embarrassment at the thought of being had. He turns back to the range and raises his gun. Ana steps carefully up close to him. He notices her faintly, but assumes she’s checking his stance.

“But what if it is?” A voice directly in his ear. The startle makes him pull the trigger, digging a bullet into the wall.

“Fuck!” McCree holsters his gun to simmer down. He buries his face in his hands trying to escape the image of the two going at it. Ana doubles over in laughter. Her hand clasps on his shoulder for support as he pouts beside her. He’s staring down at her unamused when she finally composes herself again.

“I’m sorry. Really go for it this time, I’ll stop. It is good having a little fun sometimes though. Blackwatch is always so serious, it seems like, and we’re all always on missions. Remember to have some fun when you can, hmm? Then I can at least say you learned something today.” She laughs again. McCree nods. There’s a warmth in his stomach. Comfort. True comfort. The warmth sits awkwardly in his core, but he enjoys it.

“Can do, ma’am.” He smiles at her and adjusts his hat before taking aim again. A deep breath. Relaxed tension. He remembers Ana’s words. “Be relaxed enough not to shake, but tense enough to focus. Take the shots only when it feels like you can hear a pin drop.”

His eyes scan his targets. Every noise fades into the background. His finger moves to his trigger. Breathe. His body relaxes, but his finger tenses. The hammer starts to pull back. He pulls the trigger. Five bullets hit their marks, the first is still dug into the wall from before. Six shots, six bullets. He lets out a breath. The sounds come back.

“Good work, Jesse. Do it a few more times like that then I’ll have you start drawing from the hip. You never know when you’ll need to shoot. You may not always have your gun ready. You may not be such a shit shot after all, Jesse.” She puts a hand on his shoulder and smiles at him. McCree laughs and starts reloading.

“Ya know, puttin’ students down ain’t the best way to have ‘em learn. Somethin’ about self esteem and feelings or somethin’. I’m sure it’s in some book somewhere,” McCree jokes back.

“Feel free to tell me all about it when you can shoot the gun out of somebody’s hand from over a thousand yards, hmm?”

“Aww now that ain’t even fair. You know I’m not gonna be shootin’ like that with this.”

“Then I guess you “ain’t” going to be telling me about it.”

\----

McCree spends his free period training more. He hits most of his shots, but none are as good as the first. His mind keeps wandering to what Ana said and his situation with Reinhardt. 

“But how do you know?” He hates that she piqued his curiosity so easily. Is Reinhardt really as big as she joked? Were they really a ‘thing’? If he had to admit it, he does think both are undoubtedly attractive. And they do hang out a lot. He shakes his head. Focus, Jesse. Now isn’t the time to think about Reinhardt’s large hand gently bringing Ana’s face to meet his. Nor is it the time to think about how easily he could pick her up. How easily he could pick him up.

“Fuck.” His shot hits low, damaging a bot, but not taking it out. He kicks the ground with the heel of his boot. Thinking about Reinhardt just makes him think of running off before. He feels awful about it. The man has been nothing but nice so far, but he’s another wolf and a strong one at that. Reinhardt has the power to knock the block clean off of someone, with hammer or paw doesn’t matter. The battle scars that mark him and his blind eye don’t help calm Jesse any. If he is wrong about Reinhardt, if the man just has one hell of a nice facade, it could easily spell Jesse’s death. He’s spent enough time running from wolves to know that even the ones that seem nice can just as easily find their teeth on your throat. He rubs at a scar on his shoulder through his shirt. An old bite. He’d gotten lucky that the teeth hit his collarbone and not any veins or arteries. Still hurt. Still broke the bone, but he didn’t bleed out and die. 

The thought of running from other wolves pulls him back to his family. Papá and Ma. He remembers how she would sing to him while they travelled in the night. Sometimes she’d try her hand at some of the Spanish songs Papá had taught her. Papá would hum along or help her with lyrics as he drove, every once in awhile reaching back to ruffle Jesse’s hair.

“It’ll be better in the next town, mijo. Ain’t no one gonna bother us there.” He’d say. He was always right at first, but it didn’t last. It never failed. They’d either run into hunters or pure bloods with bad attitudes clinging to old ways. It wasn’t until they moved to the vast nothingness of New Mexico that they seemed to find some peace. By then Jesse was a teen and a wild one at that. Roaming had latched itself to him like a tick. He itched to keep going, keep running anywhere that would take a scruffy fourteen-year-old with a cocky attitude and a quick trigger finger. He would disappear for days and Ma would yell at him the moment he returned, eyes puffy and tired. He remembers the face well, framed by messy strawberry blonde curls. She wore it the last time he’d seen her. It was a look somewhere between heartbreak and the type of anger you can’t stop no matter how hard you want. He reloads then holsters his gun, readying to draw it again. Their last conversation plays in his head.

“What if they find out, Jesse? What if your little gang friends find out you’re a wolf? You think they’ll take kindly to it? I’m not losing you. I’m not having my son run around shooting and stealing like some outlaw. This isn’t the Wild West. I raised you better than this.”

“You act like I have no control, Ma. You still treat me like I’m a pup and I’m not! Even if they do find out I’m not runnin’ from it anymore, hidin’ like a beat dog all the time. At least they treat me like a grown ass man.”

“Get out.”

“Ma-”

“I said get out. You are no son of mine. The son I raised is better. Now get your stuff and leave and don’t step foot in this house again until you’ve left that gang for good. You hear me, Jesse McCree? I’ll shoot you on sight if I ever see you in those Deadlock leathers again on this property. Spittin’ on the family name like this, what’s wrong with you?”

His Papá was still at work, wasn’t there to try and stop either of them. Jesse slung a quickly packed bag of all his most important things over his shoulder and marched out the door. Ma had refused to look at him as he packed and left, but their eyes met just before the door closed. It nearly stopped Jesse dead in his tracks. Part of him wishes it had. It would have saved him a lot of trouble.

McCree aims and inhales. The gun comes out of the holster. Six shots, six bullets. Two miss, the last four hit. Exhale. His shoulders drop.

“Shit, McCree, you sure have some way of fuckin’ yourself over with your own damn past.” He curses himself. “Couldn’t just keep thinkin’ on that Reinhardt fella. Had to shoot yourself in the foot with your own ma.” He huffs at another thought. _You never needed the past to fuck yourself over before._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone interested here's my tumblr http://speight-the-wynterkitteh.tumblr.com/  
> Feel free to message me on there if you so desire. Mostly I just reblog overwatch stuff, but I'll be posting any time I have a new chapter up.
> 
> Thanks Ohayo Noon for the beta!


	4. Any Pillar in a Storm

McCree rolls over in his bed for what seems like the hundredth time. His mind and body are fully awake, but the knowledge of Commander Reyes’ PT test tomorrow forces him to stay in bed. That is until he hears a noise. A laugh, soft and feminine. He hears the goings on of the base at night regularly due to his amplified hearing, but this laugh he recognizes immediately. Captain Amari. The laugh is followed by a faint gruff murmur. McCree can’t make out the words and feels a little bad for listening in anyway. The murmur shifts to a lower tone. Another one of Amari’s laughs follows in three slow chuckles. He recognizes it as a flirtatious laugh. He'd heard his ma do the same one a number of times when Papá would speak to her in Spanish. A laugh the girls in the Deadlocks would use to lure in suckers who were too stupid to see they were being swindled. He knew the laugh well and knew its power. His eyes open wide as a realization hits and Amari's voice repeats in his head.

“But what if it is?”

“We tried being more than friends once. Still are sometimes.”

His curious nature gets the better of him and he hops out of bed. He opens his door carefully and steps out. Each foot fall is as quiet as he can make it as he sneaks toward the sound. Jesse stifles a laugh at the idea that his Blackwatch training is being used to listen to Captain Amari and Reinhardt flirt with each other. It just seems so exciting. Like gossip only he knows. He'll never tell anyone of course, but the knowledge was entertaining at least. He concentrates on shifting just his ear to get a better listen. They hone in on the room like satellites interacting with their dishes.

“Oh, Reinhardt, you really are an old dog. If only the others could hear you. Maybe I wouldn’t have the reputation of being the inappropriate one, hmm?” McCree’s face reddens without even knowing what Reinhardt said. Part of him wants to turn back. He’s intruding. Eavesdropping on something he shouldn’t be eavesdropping on. But Ana’s training came back to him. Words of encouragement.

“Remember to have fun when you can, hmm?” Surely this counted as having fun right? Any excuse’ll do, he figures and this is the best one he has. Ana's own words pushing him to listen to her.

“Ah, but if only they could see you, _mein schatz_ , dressed in such nice lace. It is a shame the uniforms hide so much.” This stops Jesse in his tracks. His mind spins trying to process the knowledge that Captain Amari is chatting with Reinhardt while wearing some sort of lace. Revealing lace at that. He feels like a stalled computer trying to load an image, but none of the data is coming through. Her voice stops the page before it can load.

“Is that what you’d have of me, _baladay aldhdhib_? Displayed all pretty in front of everyone? Could you imagine the look on Morrison’s face? I think Gabriel might even get a shock out of that one. It is a good thing I call the shots, I suppose.” Another chuckle. Jesse swallows hard. He feels like a brisket on the 4th of July, that is to say, hot.

“I would have you any way that you would take me, Ana. If there are any ways you haven’t already." Jesse's brain can only pull up his imagined sound for exclamation points and the repeated "holy shit." He doesn't realize he's stopped in the middle of the walkway with a red face and a hand on his cheek as though astonished.

"Jesse McCree? What are you doing out at this time of night? Are you okay, need something?" His name startles him and it takes a second to recognize the voice behind him. It's Jack Morrison. Of course it's Jack Morrison. Leave it to the vanilla dream bean to find him while he's listening to Reinhardt and Ana. Jesse feigns his best innocent face before turning around. The innocent look doesn’t cover how red his face is though.

"Just needed some fresh air is all. Reminds me of home as much as it can. A nice breeze on a cool night, stars up above. We'd sit out under 'em sometimes and make s'mores." Good cover, Jesse. Nobody ever questions s'mores, especially not Morrison if Gabe was telling the truth that Jack was some farm boy from Indiana. No way there’s anything to do there except for making s’mores and drinking beer by a fire. Morrison nods. For a moment he almost looks nostalgic, but returns his attentions to McCree. McCree thinks the look is a bit too quick. Almost like he’s refusing to relate to him.

"It's best you get some sleep. I’m sure whatever plans Commander Reyes has for you will require some rest." Jesse nods and walks away. Jack was right about a good night's rest, but his tone annoyed him. It was the tone of forced comfort. Morrison still didn't trust him, still just thought he was some snot-nosed gang rat taking the quickest path to freedom. A desperate jump from a sinking ship. Morrison is only polite because he has to be. A poster boy through and through. Gabriel would complain about the same thing often. Perhaps the attitude is wearing off on Jesse. 

“You can call him Gabriel, you know. I ain’t blind or deaf either one. Nor am I too stupid to see how y’all act around each other, always either at each other’s throats or inseparable. You do you though, Morrison. Ain’t my business.” McCree walks away, shoulder checking Morrison on his way by. Jack turns to say something, but McCree ignores it. He knows he’s overstepped his bounds, but if Jack wants to see him as a just some trashy criminal kid that’s what he’ll be for him.

\----

Reinhardt hears the helicopter coming in before he sees it. His stomach drops when medics rush past him. He isn’t sure who went on the last mission, but a bad feeling hits him when he puts together he hasn’t seen McCree or Reyes in a while. He follows behind the medics, but is sure to stay out of the way. The helicopter is a Blackwatch one. The pit digs itself further in Reinhardt’s stomach. His heart beats in his ears. He doesn’t allow himself to think the lunch could so easily be the last time he'd see the boy alive. He reaches the landing just after the med team. A few Blackwatch members he recognizes, but doesn’t know the names of, step out. Two of them have a body in tow. Another two step out carrying Gabriel before setting him on the Med team’s stretcher. They start to cart him off to Angela’s ward, but he stops them when they cross Reinhardt. His face and torso are coated in blood. It’s unclear what is his and what isn’t, but it’s clear he’s in bad shape.

“Get the kid. He’s not doing good. Bad op. Real bad op. Needs somebody to keep him sane.” The med team doesn’t allow him to stay a second longer. Reinhardt is sure it’s for good reason. He turns back to the helicopter and sees McCree still sitting inside. He narrowly avoids running into all the others hustling around him on his way to the copter. 

“Jesse.”

McCree hears the sound, but it doesn’t process. He vaguely recognizes the sound as his name. It repeats itself, a little clearer than before.

“Jesse.”

His head moves to look over, but his eyes don’t pull off the floor of the helicopter. 

“Jesse. Jesse, look at me. McCree, I need to take you out of the chopper.” Reinhardt is trying his damnedest to break through to him without touching him. He doesn’t want to startle McCree out of his haze; it’d be too dangerous, especially with the speed of his draw.

“Reyes ordered me to take you. Please do not make it be by force, my friend.”

The mention of Reyes and his orders brings Jesse back into the moment, but part of him wishes it didn’t. Everything is loud, moving non-stop. He needs to get out. Get away. Too much, too fast. Breathe. No time to count bullets. Breathe. Get out of here. A giant hand extends to him. He knows it’s his escape. He takes Reinhardt’s hand. Reinhardt pulls out the bloodied boy and takes him to the closest empty training room. He locks the doors so they don’t have to worry about anyone else. More importantly, the room is spacious.

“Breathe, Jesse. You are going to be okay.” Reinhardt leads him to a crate before pulling one up for himself a few feet in front of Jesse. Jesse has been crammed into a small helicopter with a dead body and a bleeding commander for long enough that space is probably needed, Reinhardt thinks.

“The door is locked. Do what you need to do. Just remember that I am here for you.” It doesn’t take long for McCree to start shifting. Reinhardt turns away while Jesse strips. What Reinhardt sees of Jesse’s shift is long, sloppy even, like every fiber is fighting against the change. Reinhardt remembers what Gabriel told him, how the Deadlocks had collared Jesse, treated him like a pet after finding out he was a were. It is a good enough reason as any to not want to shift. Jesse’s eyes turn to Reinhardt forcing a gulp from him. The eyes were purely beast. Scared and angry and desperate. Reinhardt comms for somebody to bring his armour to the training room immediately followed by a special instruction to knock on the door upon arrival. A low growl comes from the wolf in front of him. A thousand thoughts flit across his mind. He should have realized. All the emotional changes and struggle to control. Jesse isn’t a pure blood. Jesse isn’t in control of himself right now. Something about the human mix made shifters prone to fully feral changes under stress. Any were could go feral, but a heavily wolfen lineage made it easier to control. Pair it with an even head and a feral change is near impossible. Jesse has neither an even head nor a long lineage though. 

Reinhardt braces, but makes no move to get away from Jesse. He hopes for the best case scenario- Jesse sees him standing his ground and backs off, but expects the worse. Jesse steps a paw forward. Reinhardt shifts, readying to stand, but also showing no intent to back down. He stands slowly. The wolf lunges and he shoves just hard enough to send him off course. He doesn’t want to hurt Jesse. If he has to he can take a few bites and scratches, but he didn’t need the questions from whoever is bringing his armour. The shoves seems to make Jesse more cautious of Reinhardt. He gives a sharp bark, a warning. A knock comes from the door. Reinhardt backs up slowly before exiting quickly and closing the door. He sends the deliverer away with an assurance that it was nothing to worry about, despite the scratching and growling coming from the training room. He makes quick work of putting on his armour, but leaves his hammer in the hall. He has no use for it.

Reinhardt steps in and can’t immediately spot McCree. His shield comes up as a precaution. He locks the door again and steps further into the room warily. His cautious movement brings him to the center of the room where his ears searchfor noise. The heavy thrum of paws grows louder behind him. He turns just in time for McCree to slam into the shield. Heavy claws scratch the clear blue shape. Hot breath fogs over it. McCree dashes to get around the wall. Reinhardt turns with him. His guard is solid. A stone pillar in a wailing storm. Jesse’s paws are a hail against his shield. Each strike wears it down bit by bit. Reinhardt can see it’s about to give. He steels himself, readying for the attack. The shield gives, blips away as easily as it appeared. Jesse is quick to realize and quick to run at Reinhardt. He lunges. Strong jaws wrap over Reinhardt’s wrist. The metal takes the brunt of the bite, but the softer material of the underside is pierced. Reinhardt focuses to keep himself from flinging Jesse out of pain. Jesse lets go, but only to jump at him again. This time Reinhardt’s stance is not as stable. The storm topples the pillar. Jesse’s teeth gnash against the metal of his helmet. Paws swipe at a broad steel chest. Reinhardt pushes McCree’s face away long enough to cover his own. He lets the wolf rain attacks on his armour, allows the flurry of paws and teeth. He is not the one that’s hurting.

The two stay like this for what seems like an hour to Reinhardt, but is more likely a few minutes. Jesse’s swipes lack energy and power now. The wolf’s fur starts to recede. The paws shift back into hands and feet. The beast has given up and Jesse returns. It takes a moment for him to realize what happened in the haze of shifting back. The second it clicks the panic sets in. He makes a dash for the furthest spot in the room from Reinhardt. His hands search for Peacekeeper, but come up empty. Reinhardt’s arms unfold from over his face. His chest surges under his armour. He moves his fingers and head. All one piece. Reinhardt hauls himself forward to sit up. He unhooks his helmet then looks around.

“Are you still in here, Jesse? It is okay that you lost control. I am okay. You did not hurt me.” He tries to comfort. “Really I feel quite invigorated after that and it was a good test for the old armour. Have to make sure it’s in peak condition, you know.”

“What?” Jesse’s voice is soft from a far corner of the room.

“Surely you did not expect I would be angry? If I had needed to stop you or felt as though I was in danger I could have easily. You needed to work it out though. This is something I understand. This is why I had the armour run down here. It is better you take it out on something that won’t get hurt than twist yourself in a knot trying to keep it down, my friend. Now how about you put your clothes back on, hm?” McCree comes out slowly, cautiously. He puts his clothes on quickly, but leaves his chest plate off. He can’t stand the blood on it. Reinhardt hauls himself up fully and walks over to Jesse.

“Would you like to talk about what happened on the op? If not then perhaps I could tell you some stories to take your mind off for a little while?”

“I-if it ain’t too much trouble, the latter sounds nice for a bit. I’ll tell you about the op later, just need to think about somethin’ else for a bit.” Reinhardt nods.

“Let me take off this armour as well, it is getting heavy. Perhaps I am getting old.” He laughs at the idea. Reinhardt babbles endlessly while he takes off his armour. When he sits down Jesse scoots to sit close to him. It surprises him a moment, but he keeps talking. He chatters about his currywurst, the time he got fleas, and the time he and Ana had to pretend to be a wealthy couple for a sting. The last one perks Jesse’s ears up. Mostly he talks about anything other than fighting. Anything that feels fun and light. Eventually McCree rolls off of him, having leaned against him at some point in the story telling. Reinhardt looks over at him. He looks torn between speaking and leaning back against him. The emotions eating at him are clear on his face. The sinking in Reinhardt’s guts return. Jesse takes a breath to make himself solid before speaking.

“I ain’t ever seen anything like it, Reinhardt. They were usin’ people as bombs. Sewin’ ‘em up with explosives and waitin’ to bait us with them. I spotted a few of ‘em that matched missin’ posters from the town over. One of ‘em was a kid close to my age. Couldn’t have been older than fifteen maybe.” Jesse stops for a moment. Reinhardt can see him trying to form the next words, but coming up silent. Inside himself he’s bubbling with anger once more that somebody Jesse’s age has been allowed into Blackwatch. Disgust at those the op had intended to take down mixes in his anger. Now is not about him though, he reminds himself. _You are here for Jesse._

“I was fuckin’ dumb. I was walking right up to him tryin’ to tell him to get out of there. Run. Leave. It’s dangerous. He just kept comin’ towards me though with this look like he was sorry for me. I didn’t put it together until his eyes started to close. Reyes was screamin’ at me the same thing I was tellin’ the kid. Run. Get out of there. I started to turn to run. Wasn’t conscious about it either, just my feet makin’ a move to survive. I guess Commander Reyes knew I wasn’t gonna be quick enough though and tackled me to the ground just before the blast went off. I was too fuckin’ stupid and now Reyes’ payin’ the price for it. He shoulda just let me take it, let me die like I oughta for a mistake like that.” Reinhardt’s brows knit together. He speaks before he thinks.

“Never say that. Never say you should die.” The words come out louder than he intends them to and McCree visibly tenses. Reinhardt stops, adjusts his tone. “I’m sorry. I did not mean to raise my voice like that, but you should never think death is a fitting punishment for wanting to save a life. You are worth far more than you seem to believe, Jesse McCree.” McCree looks down at the ground.

“I am not mad at you and I do not believe Gabriel is either. He is the one who told me to assure you were okay. It is not fair that anyone, let alone somebody your age, is having to make decisions like this one you have told me, but you have people watching after you. I will not lie and say that the memory of these things, what could have been, what happened instead, will ever stop haunting you. It will never fade enough to forget, but that is what we are here for. We all have these things. We are all pieces of people with the ghosts of strangers caught on the edges. When we are together they don’t yell so loudly though.” Reinhardt gets up and puts a hand softly on his shoulder, prepared to take it off at the first sign of discomfort. It never comes though.

“What do you say we grab some of the little tubs of ice cream from the mess hall? You know the ones with the wooden spoons? There is a quiet spot at the back of the base with a nice view of the farmlands from the roof. We can eat it there.” Jesse nods. Reinhardt stands then extends his hand to help Jesse up. He takes it and the two start on their way to the mess hall.

“You think we can see if Commander Reyes is awake when we’re done?” McCree looks away like he expects to be reprimanded for asking.

“It is a sure thing. We can bring one of the tubs to him as well.”

\----

The two enjoy their ice cream before heading to Gabriel’s room in the med bay. Gabriel is surprised to see them, but does his best not to show it. Jesse walks up slowly with a small, partially melted tub of chocolate ice cream. He’d chosen it specifically knowing Reyes’ had a sweet tooth something fierce for chocolate anything. Jesse doesn’t really understand it as far as ice cream goes. Of all the flavours to have a weakness for, Gabriel chose simple chocolate, not mocha berry twist, not spiced choconut (McCree’s personal favourite), but plain chocolate. At least it isn’t vanilla though, a comment to Reinhardt when they had picked it up. He hands over the simple chocolate ice cream cup to Reyes who eyes it for a moment before opening it up and digging in.

“Don’t think this makes up for me taking the blast for you. I may love chocolate, but I love my own hide more.”

“Yeah yeah, Commander. Ready and waitin’ to get my ass handed to me as soon as you’re outta bed. Before that though? I’m just glad you have a hide to care about. Still don’t reckon I know why you saved mine, but I’m glad you did anyway.” Jesse rubs the back of his neck. Gabriel lets out a huff of a laugh. The scene feels strange to Reinhardt, like he shouldn’t be witnessing it. It makes sense that the two have bonded to some degree over the time Jesse has been in Blackwatch, but Reyes usually makes a point to be such a hardass around others. Very quickly Reinhardt feels like an incredibly large third wheel. He sticks around anyway out of curiosity.

“Maybe you’re worth more to me alive than you are dead. Maybe I just like taking shrapnel for jackass kid heroes. Take your pick, but either way let’s not make a habit of it.”

“Still think it’s a better habit than always pickin’ the flavour just above vanilla on the flavour scale.” Gabriel rolls his eyes.

“You’re the one that brought me chocolate. You expect I’m just gonna turn it down?”

“I brought you chocolate cause ya always eat chocolate everything. Don’t think we don’t all see those candy bars when we’re runnin’ drills. Just ain’t right eatin’ food right there while we all work out.”

“Hah! Real fast mouth when I’m stuck in a bed huh, cowboy? I’m not gonna be in this bed forever though. And when I am out-”

“My ass is grass, I know. My ass is already grass for gettin’ you in that bed in the first place. Might as well make the most of it. Hell, who’s to say I don’t win the match anyway?” Reinhardt raises a brow. A match? They settle things by sparring?

“A fight is no way to dish out punishment, Reyes, surely you are not serious. You are his superior anyway, it is not a fair fight.” Reinhardt can’t help himself. It seems harmful to deal with things in such a way. The two look at him surprised, almost as though they had forgotten he was there. Both frown quickly after.

“I’ll deal with my men the way I see fit. Doing this keeps them in peak condition and keeps their nose outta shit it shouldn’t be in.” McCree nods.

“Besides, ain’t I the one that took you down not even an hour ago? I think I can hold my own, big fella.” Reinhardt’s brow creases. Jesse had ‘won’ because he had not fought back.

“If I remember correctly, which I do because I had a clear head at the time unlike my opponent, I did not fight back. I did not fight back because I did not wish to harm you. Do not think that I will let you brag on me so easily.” Reinhardt’s tone turns grim. A challenge, but one that begs not to be met. Jesse knows where to draw his line well enough that he doesn’t take Reinhardt up on the challenge.

“Aw, lighten up, old man. I’m sure you could knock my block clean off if you wanted to.” Reinhardt and Gabriel both pick up on the twinge of fright that edges into McCree’s comment. Reinhardt lightens his tone to ease him.

“Old man. Hah! I have done nothing but get better with my age, like a fine wine!” McCree raises a brow. He has to admit that Reinhardt is at least energetic for his age, and apparently spry enough for any activity from what he heard the other night. He wills his blood not to redden his cheeks. Luckily Mercy comes into the room right on time to distract the other two from his warm face.

“I am sorry to cut this off, but I must. I need to run a few more tests on Commander Reyes.” Reinhardt and McCree nod and say goodbye. Gabriel gives a short wave.

“I’m gonna head on to my room there, Reinhardt. Thanks for, ya’know, helpin’ me and all. It’s nice knowing there’s someone willin’ to take a beatin’ for me.”

“It is no problem, my friend. Please, do not hesitate to ask me for anything.” With that they part.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probs gonna have some Ana/Reinhardt smut in the next chapter. It won't be super plot related at all so if you want to skip it you won't miss anything. We're closing in on a point where time jumps are gonna be a little wider as well just to keep it from dragging too much. I aim to eventually get to current day Overwatch after all, so there's a lot of ground to cover! Also, I'm toying with the idea of doing an audio reading of this fic. Would that interest anyone? You can let me know in the comments or on my tumblr which is linked in Chapter 3.
> 
> Mein Schatz- My treasure  
> baladay aldhdhib- my wolf  
> I don't speak either language so sorry if that isn't accurate. Feel free to let me know if what it should be if it isn't!
> 
> Thanks Ohayo Noon for the Beta!


	5. A Tamed Wolf or Wild Dog

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a little longer to get out. It's longer than usual though so hopefully y'all don't mind too much! The first section is all Reinhardt/Ana nsfw and isn't plot relevant other than for the title so no worries if you skip it.

Ana lounges back in her chair, arm resting on the table beside her. Her knees are wide apart displaying herself, but also displaying her power. Her eyes are hawk-like looking at Reinhardt. Reinhardt sits on the bed in front of her. His mass sits awkward, slumped so his arms rest between his legs and his body leans in towards her. The posture reminds her of a boxer sitting down after punching a bag all day. All of the power of a lion, or perhaps a rhinoceros, is contained in him. His strength is clear in his body, yet Reinhardt is gentle, soft. All of these things draw Ana to him. The opposite draws Reinhardt to her. She is small and gentle in appearance, but her power lies underneath. She is smoke from a fine stick of incense, elegant though undeniably strong. It is intoxicating to him and he takes deep breaths of it when she allows him the chance.

“You are so beautiful tonight, Ana. I could simply eat you up. Would you have that? Would you let the big, bad wolf sink his teeth in?” Reinhardt’s voice is low, rumbling like a waking beast over to her. Her eyebrow cocks. A few chuckles escape her mouth before she smirks. Her eyes pierce him. The look ignites an ember in Reinhardt’s stomach.

“A big, bad wolf without the power to take what he wants seems more like a dog to me, Reinhardt. Are you going to be my dog? Loyal to only me?” Her words are fire against him. She stands and approaches slowly until she’s between his legs. His hands glide over her hips.

“A wolf is a wild pet to keep. You never know when it will decide it is no longer a dog, when it will bite.” Reinhardt places a gentle kiss at her collarbone. His lips part just enough for teeth to barely meet the skin. Another trio of chuckles passes her lips. “You are delicious, Ana. I can only assume the rest is even sweeter to taste.”

“Oh, Reinhardt, you really are an old dog. If only the others could hear you. Maybe I wouldn’t have the reputation of being the inappropriate one, hmm?” Ana’s fingers weave into his hair before brushing through the locks till her thumb rubs over his jaw. Reinhardt pushes into her touch. His hands move up her sides. The sheer size of them make her feel so small in his grasp.

“Ah, but if only they could see you, _mein schatz_ , dressed in such nice lace. It is a shame the uniforms hide so much.” He dresses his punctuation with kisses above her breasts, leading between the small, soft mounds. His hands slide to put his thumbs under her breasts. His thumbs move over the smooth skin until they catch on her covered nipples. She takes a long breath and her eyes close.

“Is that what you’d have of me, _baladay aldhdhib_? Displayed all pretty in front of everyone? Could you imagine the look on Morrison’s face? I think Gabriel might even get a shock out of that one. It is a good thing I call the shots, I suppose.” Her hands catch his, stopping them in their tracks. Reinhardt pulls his face back just far enough to look up at Ana. She brings one of his hands up to kiss while she moves the other to the material between her legs. His fingers rub along the stretch of lace covering her vulva. A few of the ends of her dark hair poked through the lace, making contact with Reinhardt’s skin.

“I would have you any way that you would take me, Ana. If there are any ways you haven’t already." Reinhardt lets out a low hum of laughter. He feels the familiar pressure he knows to be the start of an erection. Ana takes one of his thick fingers into her mouth. Her eyes draw downwards to watch as his jaw tenses at the feeling of her wet tongue. His mouth finds its way over to a sepia-coloured nipple, sucking at it through the lace. He can feel her small moan around his fingers. Ana pushes down on his other hand, moving her hips to control the pace. She takes his finger from her mouth.

“You are wearing too many clothes for me to enjoy myself, Reinhardt. Let’s take some of them off, shall we?” Reinhardt takes his lips from her breast and nods. He sits straight to allow access to his shirt, but doesn’t let up from rubbing between her legs. Ana’s deft fingers set to unbuttoning the dress shirt he wore to dinner. The material clings tight to him. She wonders a moment if he had a hard time finding a shirt his size or if he just wants to show off his muscles. She settles that it is likely a mix of the two. The first two buttons reveal a thick tuft of silver and grey chest hair. She stops her unbuttoning just a moment to run her fingers through the hair. It’s fitting, she thinks, that somebody skating the edges of beast and man is so hairy. Her fingers go back to work undoing the buttons. 

When she gets to the bottom she moves onto his belt, then the button of his pants. Her fingers stumble over the button for a moment when his thumb rubs over her clit. Reinhardt catches it. “Is it hard to focus when I do that, _süßer habicht_?”

“Only a little. Feeling a bit mischevious are we, _dhiab sharir_? I’ll have to fix that.” In a smooth movement she has the button and zipper undone. Her hands slips between the open fold of fabric and Reinhardt’s underwear. She brushes over the covered length before giving the large mass a gentle squeeze. Her eyes catch the stiffening of his leg muscles. Reinhardt is firm in her hand.

“Only always, but I welcome you to try and tame it out of me.” His thumb runs across her clit again in a circle. Her thighs tighten around his hand. Her jaw clenches despite the lack of reaction in her face. He pulls his hand away from her crotch. She huffs at the lack of contact. His thick fingers fumble with the clips holding up her hosiery. She pulls her hand from his crotch and gently pats his hand away from the clips. Her finger raises to wag at him.

“Ah ah ah. You deal with your pants. You know how this works, Reinhardt, my love. You behave like a good, tame wolf and maybe you get a treat.” Reinhardt’s face when from sly wolf to begging dog. “You want to sink your teeth in, don’t you?” He swallows. It’s the last bit of encouragement he needs to start shucking his shoes and pants off.

Ana carefully unhooks her hosiery and pulls the garter belt and panties off. She returns to her seat and resumes her lounging position as Reinhardt folds his pants and shirt to set on the table. He stands before her in nothing but his spandex boxers waiting for his orders. His cock is visibly hard against the tight fabric. She gives a light hum of appreciation as she eyes him over. Her stare traces over old scars, wrinkles, and muscles she knows hide under his untoned physique. Age has made many of his hard edges softer, but she has no doubt he’s even stronger than his younger self. His good eye scans over her as well. Her posture is that of power and ease, relaxed in her chair with her legs spread. Dark scars scatter over smooth tan skin. The early signs of age are starting to set in her face where wrinkles meet the corners of her eyes. Small sweeps of gray are swept behind her ears.

His eyes follow one of her hands that lazily moves to her crotch. Two fingers run through thick black hair before spread open dark folds of skin. Reinhardt’s own fingers fidget as he looks over the prominent clit and the puffy inner lips below it. Ana smirks. Her fingers run across the wet folds before she holds them out to Reinhardt.

“I recall you wanted a taste?” Reinhardt is eager to wrap his lips over her fingers. His tongue laps up her taste until she pulls the fingers away. “Come now, enjoy more of it, hmm?”

“Delicious, just as I suspected.” He quips before getting onto his knees in front of her. He trails a hand up her leg while planting kisses on the other until his cheek feels the tickle of black hair. He turns his head and places a final kiss to her clit. The hand on her thighs adjust to move her legs, giving him better access to her. His mouth meets her pussy easily, licking over it in broad strokes. His tongue moves from just above her opening to the skin above her clit. After a few licks he sucks on the sensitive flesh and lets it get drawn delicately between his teeth, careful not to cause pain. He lets her out of his mouth slowly. Reinhardt’s fingers spread her outer lips open. His tongue drags up between her inner lips before circling around her clit. He can feel Ana’s legs tense around him. He follows the path again and again, but only circles her clit every few times. His tongue starts a little lower, pressing just barely into her entrance before continuing up. His large nose leads the way for his tongue.

Her legs wrap over his shoulders and her hand runs through his hair before clutching the silver locks tightly. A small sighs escapes her throat as her wolf makes a meal of her. Her grip tightens as he sucks on her large clit, letting his tongue play at the tip. Ana lets out a low moan. Reinhardt’s beard catches her wetness in its hairs. The hairs cling to and curl around her dark pubic hair. His hand moves under his mouth to tease at her entrance with the gentle impression of asking permission without words. Ana pushes against him to answer his question. She fears her voice will betray her if she tries to answer vocally. His finger pushes slowly into her wetness. The movement of his finger and the work his tongue has already done help to hasten the process of stretching Ana. Her muscles relax around his finger allowing him to move more. He carefully times his pace to match his tongue’s. All the sensations are like fire heating quickly in Ana’s stomach. 

His thick finger curls inside her to press against her g-spot. The sensation mixes intensely with the feeling of Reinhardt’s tongue rolling over her clit. She bites her lip to stifle a loud groan. She doesn’t need the neighboring rooms to hear more than they should. The finger in her thrusts a few more times before curling against her sweet spot again. The attention to her g-spot has her body pushing out more wetness, which Reinhardt laps up greedily. She can feel herself getting close to a first orgasm.

“More, Reinhardt. I’m close, but I need a-” she’s cut off by her own gasp. “- a little more.” He nods against her and lines up a second finger. It pushes in carefully with the first, spreading her in a way most people could only get with three or four fingers. The stretch is incredible, putting her right on the edge. After a few thrusts Reinhardt rubs the two fingers over her sweet spot before spreading them out in a v inside her. He scissors his fingers a few more times and the stretch mixed with his tongue is all she needs. Her fingers bear down on Reinhardt’s scalp while her free hand covers her mouth. Muffled moans pair nicely with the urgent rocking of her hips. Reinhardt slows his motions, but doesn’t stop. She rides out her orgasm on his face and fingers. Reinhardt pulls his face back when her grip relaxes and stops his fingers. When she comes down a little more she uses her hold to pull him up to her lips. His fingers slide out in the motion as he uses the hand to lift himself. The wet fingers grip against her thigh as his equally wet lips meet hers. She can taste herself on him, but doesn’t care. Her kiss is harsh and the nip at the end breaks skin just barely, a mark of ownership that won’t be questioned by anyone who sees it.

“I suppose I am not so hard to tame after all.” Reinhardt smirks. Ana smiles softly and leans her head into his neck. She takes in his scent, some woody cologne with warm hints she can’t quite place in her post-orgasm daze.

“All wolves desire affection sometimes just as all dogs have wild hearts. You are no different, Reinhardt.” She isn’t sure where the words come from, perhaps the heart, perhaps meaningless babble. They leave her lips either way. Reinhardt kisses the top of her head. “I believe I’m forgetting your treat for obedience, though.” Her flirtatious tone returns.

Her hands go to Reinhardt’s hips, moving down until they hit the material of his boxers. Her nimble fingers hook into the elastic and pull it down slowly. She adjusts her head so she can see the base of his cock beginning to peek over the waistline. The sight of underwear moving to reveal a lover’s crotch is one of her favourites. She slows her hands, savouring the reveal. She stops just over the head and Reinhardt’s foot adjusts on the ground like an impatient horse. She gives a pleased hum before letting his cock spring out from under the spandex. Its slight wobbling movement is a satisfying sight, she thinks. One hand lifts the heavy shaft and moves it around, letting her evaluate the mass. She lets his cock back down gently before moving her hands to his hips once more. They guide him back enough to allow her to stand. Her hands guide him further back to the bed, willing him to sit down. He takes a far seat on the bed to allow her room to straddle him. The two are well versed in the motions, easily knowing what the other wants.

She grabs a condom from her dresser before she climbs onto his broad lap and takes a seat just below his cock, letting it sit heavily against her crotch. Ana’s hands slide into his thick matting of grey pubic hair. She loves the feeling of it brushing past her fingers like fur. She opens the condom wrapper and pulls out the condom with a smirk up at her lover. Ana places the condom over Reinhardt's tip. It slides down his shaft easily and she gives a few tugs to assure it’ll stay. Her hands fall back to his sides which she uses to steady her balance as she positions herself over his large cock. His hands grip her hips to hold her up, allowing her hands freedom to move. She uses it to brush the head of his cock over her folds, wetting it just a little before aligning it with her opening. Her thighs lower slowly to sink herself onto him. His hands keep her steady. The preparation from his fingers help her take him in with no discomfort. Her eyes close, taking in the feeling of stretching around his cock. Reinhardt is big in so many ways. He feels like a mountain under her. She bottoms out and holds her position for a moment to adjust. Reinhardt swallows hard at the feeling. The muscles in his legs twitch, wanting to seek his own release. He is a patient and gentle man though. A tamed wolf. 

Ana’s hands run through the hair on his chest before snaking under his arms to grip his shoulders. She uses the grip as leverage while lifting herself up to the head of his cock. She lets herself back down slowly, but faster than the first time. Reinhardt’s hands help her move up and down his length. The pace picks up quickly as they find a rhythm. Reinhardt leans down to kiss Ana’s shoulder. He nips at the dark skin, leaving small marks. He’s thankful for her modest uniform for just a moment, knowing it will cover his love bites. Ana, however, seeks his collar, knowing his normal v-neck t-shirt will only barely cover them. She goes further down for just a moment to take one of his nipples between her teeth. The feeling brings a hard buck from him, causing her teeth to let go as a moan escapes her throat. Her muscles tighten around him and her nails dig into his back. A hard grunt is muffled in Ana’s shoulder.

Reinhardt moves to meet the fall of Ana’s hips. Ana’s nails dig in harder. Her previous orgasm has her still incredibly sensitive. Reinhardt is in no better position with how long his hard cock was trapped in his boxers. The two move their hips together in earnest with every nerve feeling like a live wire. Biting and kissing muffles their hard grunts and moans. Reinhardt’s grip on her hips tightens as he draws close to the end. His thrusts are desperate, almost bestial in speed and power.

“Come for me, _baladay aldhdhib_. I’m close too, I just need you to come for me.” Ana’s words pull him over the edge. He let’s a out a long groan as his hips rut into her. The noise and the hard thrusts are all she needs. Her body clenches around him as they ride out their orgasms together. The two come down in a slow roll like steam out of a pipe. Their movement dies off until the only movement is their sweaty chests heaving against one another. After a moment Reinhardt helps Ana off his lap and the two lay next to each other in the bed. At some point Ana gathers herself enough to lay her head against his chest. His arm drapes around her just below her breasts. His free hand tugs the condom off. He ties it and sets it down to throw away when his muscles work again.

At some point they get up and clean themselves off in a shared shower. The condom gets binned, clothes get put on, it almost feels domestic. They even cuddle for an hour or two chatting about the food at the restaurant and how things around the base are going. At some point he has to return to his own room, though. Relationships like this aren’t allowed. Even if everyone knows, it can’t be allowed to be too obvious. They kiss goodnight before he steps into the cold night air. He catches the scent of Morrison wandering somewhere nearby, but doesn’t bother to check it out.

\----

Jesse steps cautiously onto the training mat, feeling incredibly naked without his boots or the weight of his gun on his hip. Nothing but training clothes, the bandana on his neck, and the wiry muscles that cling to his bones. It’s been a week since Gabe got out of the med bay, which meant it was time to settle things. Gabriel is already on the mat smirking at him. He knows the look means he’s about to get his ass handed to him on a silver platter. The commander speaks up.

“I’m gonna get your neck some time during this, letting you know now. You need me to stop you say, but we gotta break you of that eventually. Not everyone’s gonna be nice and avoid it while they try to kill you.” The thought makes McCree even more nervous. “You can keep the bandana if it helps.”

McCree nods with a gulp. He steps in the center where Reyes is waiting and takes a breath. The long intake gives him just enough of a moment to steady himself. Now’s not the time to drag himself down in nerves. If wants to even stand a chance he’s gotta at least pretend to be cocky. It’s a facade he knows well. He puts on his cowboy smile, straightens his back, and assumes his stance. Gabriel’s brow raises. It’s an unspoken question: you really think you’re gonna win, kid? No, but he can damn well try. Gabriel assumes his own stance. The match starts and everything else in the room fades out of Jesse’s mind.

Gabriel swings for him. Jesse dodges just in time, and the fist passes right by his face. He tries to grab the arm. Gabriel uses his other hand to force his down so he makes no purchase. Gabriel swings again. It lands solid against McCree’s stomach. He doubles for a moment, but doesn’t back down. His leg works around Gabe’s trying to trip him up. Gabe adjusts his stance, careful to free his own leg. His arm wraps over Jesse’s neck. Jesse freezes instantly. Reyes keeps him there for a long moment, gives him a chance to come out of it. When he doesn’t his leg wraps Jesse’s and puts him on the ground. His back hitting the floor snaps Jesse back to. He’s lost the even ground in an already hard fight. His legs wrap around Gabe’s waist. He searching for purchase to flip him, but Gabe’s fist doesn’t give him the time. His arms come up to protect his face so Gabe starts aiming for his side. He’s gotta do something, can’t just sit there and get pummeled. He throws a desperate hook and clocks Gabriel in the face. The hit’s solid enough to shake his balance and he hits the mat.

Jesse moves quickly to straddle Gabriel’s thick thighs. His weight pins Gabe’s legs down for the moment. He lands a few more hits before Reyes’ legs come up, giving him space under McCree. He turns over and quickly grabs one of Jesse’s legs before rolling again. The move rolls Jesse under him and lands his shoulder square in Jesse’s groin. The pain rips the air from Jesse’s lungs. He has to remind himself there’s no cheap shots in the way they fight. Fight for survival or lay down and die. Gabriel shifts between his legs to face him. Punches rain down, making it hard to pull in another breath. Jesse’s arms weekly seek purchase on the back of Gabe’s neck. Just as one finds it air pulls into his lungs again, reenergizing him. He pulls Gabriel in close by his neck and wraps his legs behind his. Gabriel’s blows sting at his side. As he manages to start rolling him over he feels teeth sink into his arm. Now that was dirty, but if he was gonna bring teeth into this McCree wasn’t gonna back down. He concentrated just enough to bring his true canines out for just a moment. His dig into Gabriel’s shoulder as they roll. Gabe lets out a pained groan. Jesse’s teeth pull back and return to normal, but he can taste the blood.

“Shoulda known better than to bite a wolf, huh?” Gabe laughs at himself. Jesse gets a little cocky at what he feels is a compliment. 

“I guess so. Got a little bit bigger teeth than you, sir.” Gabriel laughs at the sudden confidence; can’t let it stand for too long, though. He brings his head back as much as he can before slamming into Jesse’s. McCree’s nose gushes with blood and he lets go. A small amount of the blood falls onto Gabriel’s already split lip. Gabriel takes the opportunity to flip and pin Jesse. He gives a loud three count before slamming a hand onto the mat. Jesse’s brow knits together as he wipes blood off his face.

“Aw, come on now, that ain’t even right. I didn’t even get a chance at a clear head after that last one.” Gabriel laughs. It’s an odd moment for the kid to sound so much like a kid, he thinks.

“Work on your reaction times and don’t get so cocky. Maybe next time you’ll beat me.” Jesse scoffs at the remark.

“Who’re you tellin’ not to be cocky? Maybe I learned from someone a little close to me, huh?” 

“Keep running that mouth and we’ll have a second round. I’m not above sending a kid to the med bay.” Jesse rolls his eyes, but smiles only to remember that every part of his face below his nose is coated in blood.

“Uh, maybe we oughta hit the showers before a possible second match. I at least have’ta get to a sink an’ wash all this mess off.”

“I say you keep it. Really completes the punk-ass kid look.” Gabriel says despite tossing him a towel from the bench. He catches it. A thought crosses his mind. He’s starting to like this place more than he thought he would, not something he thought was possible nearly half a year ago.

\----

Jesse turns as the training room door opens up. Reinhardt made a habit of checking in on him during the two weeks after he’d come back from the op and tried to rip his throat out. Mostly they’d talk and joke around while McCree shot. Sometimes Reinhardt would step in a few rounds to knock bots toward him. The man showing up is no longer a surprising thing. If anything it’s a comfortable routine that Jesse’s glad to have. The time’s gotten them a little closer and keeps his energy up while he trains.

Reinhardt stops dead in his tracks when he sees McCree. The boy’s face is bruised and swollen and a gash cuts across the bridge of his nose. His good eye scans him over further and spots more bruises on his arms. Worry sets in immediately. He assumes the bruises must be from some sort of sting or something by how bad they are. There’s no lethal markings though. Somehow that fact worries him even more.“What has happened to you, my friend? Are you alright?”

“What?” McCree’s head tilts until he remembers that he looks like he’s been pulled through a whoopin’ machine and came out the wrong end. “Oh, right. Hah. Well Commander Reyes is outta the med bay and back to his healthy self. We had our little scuffle yesterday during training. You remember us talkin’ about it when we went and visited him right?”

Reinhardt’s face turns grim. He can understand on some level why Jesse takes to fighting to bond knowing his past gang ties, but seeing him bruised like this doesn’t sit well. A commander should never beat his subordinates, at least not to this point. Sparring is one thing, but McCree looks like he just got mugged. Jesse sees the worry on Reinhardt’s face. His head works to spin words quickly before Reinhardt works himself up over nothing.

“It’s okay. Really, big fella. I ain’t a delicate little flower. It’ll all be healed in a few days, shit if I’d gone to the med bay it’d probably be healed already.” He tries to comfort him.

“You are young though, and new enough to this that the fight is not fair. He should not use his strength on you like this. It isn’t right. Have you seen your face, Jesse?” McCree’s comforting takes a defensive turn. His ma’s doting voice echos in Reinhardt’s.

“Now I ain’t some snot nose kid, Reinhardt. This isn’t my first rodeo and before you go thinkin’ all I got was the horns in this fight you oughta take a look at Gabe. I didn’t spend three and a half years of my life in a gang just to come be mothered by you.” The words come out faster than he thinks to shut up. He’s too riled up to stop now, though. “I’m sick of all this shit where just cause I’m younger than all y’all I need protectin’. I protected myself damn well before Blackwatch and I can protect myself damn well while I’m here. I’ve killed people before. Looked ‘em dead in the eye and pulled the damn trigger. I reckon if I’m old enough to do that I’m old enough to not catch shit for havin’ fun fightin’ my commander.” His accents thickens in his anger. Reinhardt straightens, surprised by the anger. His look of hurt deflates Jesse’s anger a little. “Look all I’m saying is you did good enough helping me the other day, but I don’t need help with this. Us fighting, me and Reyes? That is help. It’s rough and maybe it ain’t healthy, but shit, it works. It keeps us sane and let’s us work off some steam. Gets some training in, too. You don’t gotta understand it, but the least you can do is let it be.”

“I am only worried is all. I do not mean to say you can’t handle yourself when I say you are young. What I am saying is that I do not want you to get in over your head trying to prove yourself to those who are older. I have been alive long enough to see plenty of people your age die falling into that trap, I do not want the same to happen to you.” Something in the way Reinhardt’s eyes stare past everything as the last sentence leaves his lips chills Jesse. His eyes meet with Jesse’s in an almost desperate way. He’s seen the look a few times in others. Seeing it on such a typically jovial man though, shakes him. He’s never thought about how long Reinhardt’s been fighting, how many people he must have seen die or even caused the death of. Just looking at him he’s gotta be around fifty. Plenty of years to be in the military. Plenty of years to see more than anyone needs to see to lose hope in the world.

“I’m not gonna die anytime too soon, Reinhardt, I can promise you that.” It’s the only thing he can think to say that might be of some comfort. Reinhardt nods. The mood feels a little lighter with the movement.

“I will hold you to that promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter comes to a new year with new beginnings! Who knows what lurks around the corner.
> 
> Translations (to the best of my ability):  
> mein schatz- my treasure  
> baladay aldhdhib- my wolf  
> süßer habicht- sweet hawk  
> dhiab sharir- bad/wicked wolf
> 
> Thanks Ohayo Noon for the beta!


	6. The Scorpion and The Vase

McCree catches Gabriel on his way out of the medbay a week after their fight looking sick as a dog. He waves and smiles, but the worry is clear on his face. The thick scent of illness hangs on Gabriel and is almost overpowering even at the distance he’s at. The power of the scent reminds him of when he stepped on the base for the first time and was promptly smacked in the face by Reinhardt’s scent. “You doin’ okay, boss man? Not lookin’ too hot, not smellin’ it either.” Gabriel rolls his eyes, but joins him walking down the hall.

“Not feelin’ too hot and I could do without the reminder of this rank ass smell. I’ve showered twice today. Probably got infected from your nasty mouth biting me.” Jesse tries to stifle his laugh at the look Gabriel gives. It’s hard to take his cocky grin seriously when he looks like he’ll keel over any second. “Whatever it is I’m sure I’ll be better in a week. Sickness don’t really keep to me or Morrison that well anymore.”

Jesse remembers whisperings that the two of them were in some sort of super soldier program. It’d make sense that it boosts their immune system too. Nobody needs their best getting taken out by the common cold. Still, the mention of the bite echos in his head. It was an irresponsible move. He’d been told by his ma that it took a lot more than a bite to turn anyone, but Gabe is sick now after being bitten. The most he can do is keep watch he supposes.

“Hows about you take a rest in your room. I’ll see what kinda soup I can whip up. Somethin’ spicy to knock that cold out. When it’s done I’ll bring it to you and pretend I ain’t ever seen you lookin’ less than peek and you can pretend you didn’t ever need soup and a blankie. What’cha say, sir?” Reyes scowls at him, but considers the offer. Despite his annoyed face he nods. McCree’s cooking is better than the base meals and the prospect of something spicy to clear his congestion is hard to pass up.

“Make it good enough and maybe I’ll over look your smart mouth. Maybe.” Jesse grins at him and tips his hat.

“Best soup you’ll ever have in this place I guarantee ya!” He calls back behind him as he rushes off to the kitchen. Reyes shakes his head before shuffling off to his room to curl into his bed.

\----

February rolls around. It’s been a few months since Gabriel got sick and just as he had predicted it cleared up in a week. When it finally cleared Gabe had admitted to actually being worried. Something about his blood results being out of whack. That too returned to normal specs though. A new year on the base brings some new faces. Nobody McCree wants to take the time to talk to, but he notices the additions taking a tour of the base as Ana drags him off to the training room. The day thus far has been carrying on so normally he wishes he was still in with the Deadlocks for just a moment. Instead of working he’d be sitting in some scrapped up junk chair with a beer, joking with his old friends about something or another. The faint taste of some birthday ‘cake’ pieced together out of whatever sweets were the cheapest would be mixing with his beer. A beer he shouldn’t be drinking anyway. His lip curls at the thought of worrying about underage drinking while surrounded by murderers and thieves he called a family. He’s unsurprised that things don’t seem to work like that in Overwatch. He’s a soldier now, just a kid to be trained up and sent out into the field. He sighs.

“You ready to start your training, Jesse?” Her voice pulls him from his thoughts. He didn’t realize they were already at the door. He nods quietly and opens up the door dark room. Ana steps past him as his hand searches for the light pad. The second the the lights switch one a loud noise comes over the room. Voices and cardboard horns blaring into his ears.

“Happy birthday!” A number of voices in unison. He’s stunned as his eyes dart around. Reinhardt, Gabriel, Jack, Angela, Winston, and Torbjorn stand around the table. A few of the Blackwatch members are scattered between them. There’s a cake, a true and proper cake, sitting on the table. A few gift bags sit beside it. He smiles a wide, shocked smile at it all. Ana puts a warm hand on his shoulder and leads him to the table where Gabriel is already pulling out the lighter for the candles. McCree watches with a grin as each of the eighteen wicks catch fire. Gabriel give the other’s a question look before they all take a collective inhale.

“Feliz cumpleaños a ti-” McCree’s ears tune into Gabriel’s voice. The sole Spanish voice in the group sticks out. He’s absolutely not about to tear up. Absolutely not. It’s denial twice over as his cheeks are already getting wet. Ana hugs him closer as they all sing to him. For a split second he feels guilty for thinking he meant so little to them. The song ends and he blows out the candles on the cake that he still can’t believe is a real actual cake.

“What did you wish for, friend? I promise not to tell!” Reinhardt grins and laughs. Jesse rolls his eyes. Jack plucks the candles and starts distributing slices of cake. Jesse of course gets the first. He takes a moment as they’re all digging in, before he takes his first bite, to take in the group. He’s sitting in a place that at first was literally a step above prison, eating cake on his birthday with a good number of people he’d gladly take a bullet for. He’s pulled out of the moment by Gabriel pulling his plate away from him. Gabriel stabs a fork into the slice of cake as McCree’s brow knits together.

“Don’t pay attention and you don’t eat.” Gabriel’s face is flat and matter of fact.

“Hey, now wait just a damn seco-” Jesse’s stopped by Gabe’s flat expression cracking into a smirk. “Aw hell. Fuckin’ with a man on his own damn birthday. That just ain’t right.” Gabriel snorts.

“I guess technically you are a man now, huh? Still look like a little brat to me.”Gabriel’s smirk turns to a toothy grin.

“I think you look a little older actually. I suppose it has been some time since you visited the med bay though so it only makes sense.” Angela quips from a few chairs down.

“Well thank ya kindly.” Jesse tips his hat to her. He pulls his plate back over after stabbing Gabe’s fork back into his own slice. He take the first, icing heavy bite. His eyes close at how delicious it is. It’s been so long since he’s had a proper cake. He starts scarfing the slice down fork full by fork full.

“The kid’s going to choke himself on that cake.” Torbjorn laughs from his seat by Reinhardt.

“I don’t think I can blame him. This is delicious!” Reinhardt says through a messy mouthful.

“Don’t forget about the gifts when you’re done with the cake, McCree.” Winston reminds him. The slice is gone quickly. Ana hands him the gift bags before he can go for another.

“Y’all know ya didn’t have to get me anything right?”

“Yeah yeah just open the bags.” One of the other Blackwatch members teases. Jesse complies. He grabs a small brown bag with actual tissues sticking out the top. McCree raises a brow at what could easily be mistaken for a sack lunch until he catches the marker writing on it. ‘From: Gabe To: Some brat’ his surprise leaves him. Gabe probably didn’t have to free time to get anything more decorative, but even if he had this seems somehow more fitting. He digs in a pulls out a flip up lighter. The Blackwatch insignia is engraved into the metal with the words ‘un lugar para llamar a casa’ on the back. A place to call home. 

“Don’t think this is me condoning your habit either. If you’re gonna smoke though you could at least do better than those plastic garbage lighters.” His thumb runs over the words He smiles over at Gabriel, squeezing the lighter in his hand before pocketing it. He reaches for another bag, purple with a flowery scent coming off of it. He knows from the smell that Ana must have put it together. If he couldn’t tell from the smell then he could absolutely tell from her grin. He pulls out a heavy piece of metal from the bag. A big, golden belt buckle stares him in the face with the letters BAMF sprawled across it in bold letters.

“I found it in a costume shop. I thought it was fitting of your… aesthetic.” He smiles and nods a thanks at Ana. A red bag is next. A doodle of a knight and dragon is on the side, Reinhardt’s way of saying who it’s from. Jesse reaches in and his hand is met with fabric backed by soft stuffing. He pulls out a stuffed horse with a bandana around its neck and a little cowboy hat. The lumpy little thing has messy stitches and mismatched eyes, but is clearly new.

“It is a little childish I know, but I think sometimes it is fun. I admit my sewing is not as good as it once was.” Reinhardt rubs the back of his head. Reinhardt is right, it is a childish toy, but he likes it. The strong material it’s made of isn’t missed by him. It’s a detail most might write off as a poor choice without knowing the reason behind it.

He unwraps a few more gifts, mostly simple stuff like a giftcard or some gear. Angela even threw in a little cowboy boot magnet. The party dies down after a little while and they break down the decorations. Jesse thanks them all before parting ways. He sets his gifts aside before he and Ana settle back into training mode. He’s content and warm in the knowledge he’d been wrong.

\----

Gabriel knocks on Jesse’s door with one hand. A bottle of whiskey takes up the other. Earlier the others got to have their celebration, now it is his turn. Jesse opens it in nothing but a ratty pair of sweatpants that Gabriel assumes are his pajamas. He seems surprised to see Gabriel.

“Celebration’s not over. You’re old enough to drink now, at least here anyway. It’d be a shame to pass up the opportunity.” Gabriel holds up the bottle of whiskey to him. Jesse nods after a moment.

“Let me put a shirt on real quick like. Don’t much feel like drinkin’ in my dirty old room.” He turns and walks back into his room. Gabriel follows him. He wasn’t lying. The room is a mess of thrown around clothes and trash. The only cleanish area is his desk that’s been cleared off for gun maintenance. At least the kid cared for his gun more than his room. The temptation to scold him over the mess is there, but Gabe pushes it off. No reason to, not his room to care about. His brow quirks when Jesse picks up a shirt and sniffs it. Jesse tosses the shirt over to him. “That smell to you? No use tryin’ to catch my own scent no matter how good my nose is.”

Gabe’s free hand catches the shirt and brings the soft fabric to his nose. It wasn’t a bad smell. Probably worn once a few days ago by the faint scent of sweat on it, but time had aired it out some. He tosses it back over. “Good enough. Only you and me anyway and I’ve smelt far worse things than your sweat anyway.”

Jesse slips it on and steps past Reyes towards the door. He opens it up to gesture him out and follows after him into the night air. Gabriel leads them toward the back of the base until they reach the opening to the field Jesse ran in with Reinhardt. They go up the stairs to the roof and take a seat on the wall around the edge. The night’s quiet up here, calm. The breeze teases Jesse’s hair into his face as the moon casts white highlights on them both. Gabe looks up at the stars.

“February 18th hmm. What’s that make you? Aquarius or Pisces?” The question catches Jesse off guard as Gabriel opens the bottle and takes swig. He never took Gabriel for the horoscope type, seems too whimsical for him. He didn’t really know much about it other than sometimes somebody in the gang would bring back a local newspaper. It’d always end with them reading off the horoscopes at the back.

“Aquarius. Last day of it. Weird how that works. A few more hours and maybe I’d be a different man if you buy into all that.” Gabriel let out a short huff of laughter.

“Fitting. Seems like being on the edge works for you.” Gabriel pauses for a moment. “Don’t know if I buy into it all. Back in L.A. a lot of people did, but not a lot of them killed people for a living. Hard to think about destiny when you have a gun to somebody’s head. When your pulling teeth to get somebody talking.” Jesse nods then takes hold of the bottle. Gabe lets go, allowing him to take a drink. The whiskey bites at his throat, but it’s not the first time he’s felt the sting.

“We used to joke about horoscopes sometimes. I think maybe it was easier than thinkin’ about if any of it applied. It’s easier to rob and kill if you ain’t worrying about your future. I reckon it’s the same as you said. Hard to feel like you’re playin’ into destiny by sellin’ drugs to a kid your age or beatin’ the shit outta someone for bad mouthin you. I dunno though, maybe I’m just ramblin’.” Jesse shrugs and looks off to the field below them. It’s easier to talk to Reyes, but rarely do they talk about easy things. Each time is like a confessional. They bare their dirtied souls to each other for different reasons though and both of them can see it. Jesse confesses because he wants punishment and forgiveness for his sins. He wants them recognized. Confess, repent, do better, be better. Maybe even find a reason not to run anymore if he can swing it. Gabriel has at least taken the option of running out of question for a while. Even when his feet itch to go, to run, be anywhere but the place he’s been for so long, maybe too long, a mission comes up just in time to quench his thirst.

Gabriel speaks openly because it’s the only time he can, fully and truly. There’s still some things he’ll never trust Jesse with, but they’re things he’ll never trust anyone with, vulnerabilities, results of a paranoia that comes with the job. Jack never wants to hear about Blackwatch, it’s easier to be ignorant than catch any blame for what may or may not happen in their operations. The other Blackwatch members are a no go. Their loyalties can waiver, they can leave and with them goes everything Gabriel would have said. Anybody else can never be allowed close enough to know what he’s done. His methods and authority can’t be seen as questionable if nobody knows what to question him on. McCree can’t leave and wouldn’t if given the choice. In the short time he’s been in Blackwatch he’s tied himself to Gabriel. It’d take more than death to break the binding. He’d be lying if he said he wouldn’t take a bullet for the kid, too. Hell, he’d already taken a bomb.

“Hey, you gotta stop with negating everything you say. I get it, you aren’t used to letting new people this close, that’s fine. I’m not going to get on your ass for talking though. Gotta have someone you can trust. A wolf’s gotta have a pack or whatever.” Jesse gives a light laugh at the wolf reference. He know Gabe will never leave it alone, but he can’t blame him. Most people don’t even know there are werewolves that actually exist and here he happen to pick one up from a gang. Gabe takes another drink. His feet come up onto the ledge with him. It makes Jesse swallow, but he doesn’t see a hint of fear in Gabriel. 

A few more drinks lead to an idea in McCree’s head. Gabriel seems so interested in his wolf form why not show him? He grins wide and toothy over at Gabriel. The look doesn’t sit well in Gabriel’s stomach. His his expression sinks into one that Jesse knows well as the ‘Jesse, cut the shit’ face.

“So you wanna see me go wolf? If I bring it on I have control over it. Ain’t nothin’ to worry about. ‘Sides I’m sure you can handle it.” Gabriel should turn him down, but the town plays at him being a chicken if he does. He’s drunk enough to let Jesse have his fun.

“Go for it. Don’t go getting mad at me if I kick your ass for slobbering on my boots though.” Gabriel turns to Jesse as he steps away from the edge. Jesse has certainly caught Gabriel’s attention. He pulls his shirt off before his eyes meet with Gabe’s. Jesse isn’t shy by any means, but having Gabriel’s stern, observing eyes staring him down as he undresses makes him a little less sure of himself. His loose sweatpants come of next and he stretches. Gabriel looks over the muscles in McCree’s body, assessing how his training has changed him. He’s bulkier than he used to be, but still scrawnier than most in Blackwatch. If Gabriel stood next to him Jesse would look like a twig. However, if current Jesse stood next to the ragged pup pulled out of Deadlock Canyon he’d seem huge.

His observations are halted in place of new ones as he watches the muscles shift under Jesse’s skin. The sounds are horrible, but familiar. Bones cracking, the pop of muscles ripping apart. Gabriel knows these sounds well, but not in this context, not in the form of a body breaking and reforming itself with no outside help. Jesse falls to the ground as his legs crack and shift. Low grunts and groans force their way out if his throat at the pain. It’s numbed only slightly by the the whiskey in his system. It’s a pain Jesse knows though. He’s willing to suffer through it having felt it enough times. Gabriel’s eyes watch each change carefully. Each shift, break, and growth is noted and memorised in case he ever has to fight Jesse. 

Jesse doesn’t shift fully, doesn’t feel like it. He likes not going full wolf since he can still make some conversation. It’s also nice to have thumbs. The form is more like what the movies show, the werewolf stereotype. The idea makes Jesse laugh. He stretches and shakes himself like a wet dog. His ears rotate on his head until they they pick up Gabriel’s breathing. His tail wags on its own. He struggles out a few words. “What. You. Think, boss?”

The sudden deep rasp of Jesse’s beastial voice makes the hair on Gabriel’s neck stand up. The whole idea of real werewolves makes him uneasy. He can see this beast has incredible power and for a moment is just glad Jesse is controlling it and on his side. He doesn’t let Jesse see his fear though. He folds his arms. “Pretty neat trick. So if I throw a ball, you gotta fetch it?” Jesse rolls his eyes.

“Ha. Ha. Give me the. Whiskey.” Gabriel raises a brow, but holds it out to him. The beast’s hand encompasses the bottle easily. The claws knick Gabe’s skin on accident. “Sorry.” Jesse puts the bottle to his long snout and swallows down a few shots worth of the whiskey before handing it back. A short debate goes on in Gabe’s head on if he wants to drink after Jesse now. Werewolf backwash can’t be good a taste. McCree shakes his head at the burn and his shaggy fur shakes with him. Gabe smiles at him. Jesse grins back, his long teeth shining in the moonlight. It’s a peaceful moment, one of few Jesse has had in this form in years. He moves to stand on all fours then pads over to Gabriel. He lets his head fall onto Gabriel’s lap. Gabriel is apprehensive at first, but his hand slowly rests on Jesse’s head. His other hand brings another drink of whiskey to him. McCree’s tail wags idly on the ground as Gabe’s fingers brush through his fur.

“Aren’t you supposed to be a vicious beast? This is a little underwhelming admittedly.”

“You rather I. Kill. You? Trust me. Full beast? Bad.” 

“I’m sure I’ve fought worse.” 

The two sit a little while longer before Jesse turns back and redresses. They talk idly for a bit before calling it quits. They both have to get up early and the whiskey is mostly empty which they’ll feel in the morning. Gabriel walks Jesse back to his room. It isn’t until Jesse is pulled into a hug and he feels Gabe’s arms around his neck that he realizes he doesn’t have his bandana on. Gabe leaves with a final happy birthday. Jesse smiles as he rubs the scars along his uncovered neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know a lot of astrology stuff, but aquarius and pisces felt right for Jesse so I put him on the cusp. I also really feel like Scorpio fits Gabriel even if I really didn't want to give him the kinda stereotypical villian type horoscope? Like it's always Scorpio and Gemini as bad guys.


	7. Black Jaguar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo so this first chapter has some nsfw with McCree at the end of the first part. The entire first part isn't too plot important if you want to skip it. I'll give a summary at the end.

Reinhardt and Jesse hit the showers after a long training session. A few others are in there as is usual given the time. Dinner will start in about half an hour so most come get showered up before enjoying the last meal of the day. Reinhardt and Jesse are no different, but rarely do they end up in the same set of showers since Blackwatch has their own. The only problem now that they are in the same set is that Reinhardt has reached the no towel age of public locker rooms and McCree’s curiosity is begging him to look. Ana said he’s big and every part of him want to know, but he can’t just eye up Reinhardt’s junk in the middle of the locker room. He’ll notice or somebody else will and call him out on it. His face reddens at the thought of being caught. Getting in the shower doesn’t help the situation at all, but at least he can focus on cleaning himself enough to not look. For the moment anyway.

His thoughts draw back to the night he overheard them. Reinhardt must be packing something good if Captain Amari likes him. He doesn’t know for sure, but by the way she looks and what she was saying that night he thinks she must be a wildcat in bed. She did say she had control. The idea of Reinhardt being putty in her hand gains some attention from ‘The Deputy’. Jesse scrubs himself harder trying to get the blood to go literally anywhere else. He remembers hearing something about scratching making boners go away and he definitely does not need a boner right now at all. Random erections were bad enough with clothes on. For once he’s glad he has to be on the side of Reinhardt’s bad eye since the other shower head is taken. 

“You are awake over there, McCree? Surely our training did not wear you out that much. It would be a shame to have to go easy on you.” Reinhardt laughs. Jesse’s head turns quickly at the sudden voice, but turns back after catching sight of the water pouring over Reinhardt’s broad, muscular back that he absolutely doesn’t want to run his hands over. The image isn’t helping his situation at all.

“Just enjoyin’ the hot water while it’s still here. I reckon it’s got another minute before it starts goin’ cold.” Jesse tries not to draw attention to himself. He’s hoping he can at least brush off his half-hard dick as the results of teenage hormones if anyone does see. Part of him wishes the water would go cold sooner, but he refuses to turn it to cold before the hot water is gone. Reinhardt turns towards him to let the water wash his side off. Jess puts a foot on his shower stool to clean his leg and block the view of his crotch. His eyes don’t cooperate with his plan to keep to himself though. They glance slowly over to Reinhardt’s legs then move up until he gets an eyeful. Jesus the man is huge! This was a bad decision and he’s regretting it immediately. His eyes dart back. He’s absolutely sure his face is steaming red right now. He hesitantly switches legs as Reinhardt turns again. Jesse’s been with a few people, but none so big. The idea of the length stretching him open is all he needs to get fully hard, the opposite of what he wants right now. Jesse realizes he has to get out of the shower right now before things get worse.He turns off his shower head and grabs his towel to wrap tightly over himself.

“See ya later Reinhardt.” Poor choice of words. He scurries out and gets dressed in a flash before making a dash for his room. 

It doesn’t take long for him to hitch his pants back down and free his straining cock. He grabs the lube off his nightstand before he sits down on his bed. Angela had snuck it into his birthday bag as a joke, but he’s glad to have it now. He slathers it over himself before gripping his cock desperately and chucking the bottle aside. His thumb runs overs his prince albert piercing. He remembers one of the Rebels convincing him to get it, he liked it though so it’s stayed with him. He tries to picture Reinhardt’s dick hard, resting against his lips. His tongue wets his lips at the thought. Another idea catches his mind. Reinhardt’s hands are just as big as the rest of him, he probably need preparation just to take his fingers. He gulps. His free hand works his balls as the one on his cock pumps the length. His foreskin rolls over the metal ring in his tip. Each jerk of his hand is impatient both in the embarassment of having gotten hard in the showers and knowing it’ll worry Reinhardt if he’s late to dinner after rushing away.

“Please.” The whisper is a quiet beg for his body to comply with his hurry as well as an imaginary plead for Reinhardt’s fingers. He’s biting his lip without realizing in his focus. The image of Reinhardt sinking shifted canines into his shoulder forces a breath from him. He’s never slept with another werewolf before, but the idea of letting loose and rutting like beasts is nice. He’s torn between wanting to kiss the sweet man and wanting to dig claws into his broad back. His fingers let go of his balls to dig into the blanket as he gets closer. The taste of blood from his lip only serves to play into his thoughts. Just as he’s closing in on the coil in his stomach letting loose a knock comes to the door.

“Fuck fuck fuck!” He manages to keep his tone just above a whisper. “Who’s out there and why’re they botherin’ me right now?” He doesn’t bother to hide his impatience.

“You commander. Get food and meet me in my office.” Jesse mentally beats himself up know he just snapped at Reyes. “Oh and one more thing. I’ll bother you when I damn well please, vaquero. Don’t think I’m forgetting about this.”

Jesse flops against back on the bed defeated, ripped from the edge by his own commander. He doesn’t even get to catch a break for not knowing it was him at the door.

“Why’s this shit luck always hangin’ on me?” He sighs. “Whatever Reye’s has planned better be damn good.” He does his best to hide his still hard dick with careful tucking and a long, baggy hoodie before heading for food.

\----

“Who are you?”

“Name’s Levi Devara. Levi’s just as fine though, darlin’.” Jesse’s drawl exaggerates just enough to sell his young southern tourist persona as he walks. The spurs on his boots jingle with each step.

“Where you from?”

“Out around Texas ways. You ever been there? Truly is God’s country.” An attempt to make the questioner to the spotlight rather than himself, just as Reye’s taught him. You give too much info and you’ll be caught in a lie eventually. He keeps this in mind.

“Never been. Why’re you here?”

“Seems like the place to be. Figured I oughtta see the the sights if I’m in the country. Iffin’ I’m an honest man I’d say I’m seein’ one right now.” Gabriel rolls his eyes. Jesse just smirks at him.

“You gonna use your ‘southern charm’ on everyone you meet or are you just trying to get in my pants, cowboy?” Gabe quirks his brow. Jesse’s smirk turns to a grin. It’s the second time he’s managed to derail his training. Reyes would probably be more mad, but it means Jesse is doing what he’s supposed to be doing, distracting his mark.

“That depends, commander, how close are you to droppin’ trou’ and taking me right here in hall? Pretty close right?” Jesse gives a comical raise of his brows.

“Not even.” Gabriel laughs and squishes Jesse’s hat down on his head. “Good try though. Might have worked on some snotty single teen like yourself.” Jesse laughs and adjusts his hat.

“Aww. Now that ain’t nice, boss. Coulda at least spared my ego a little. I’m hurt truly. I don’t know that I’ll ever recover.” Jesse tosses his head back and puts a hand to his face in mock despair. Gabriel’s arm wraps over Jesse’s shoulder and pulls him into his chest. Jesse playfully pushes off of him to escape, but Gabe’s grip holds. Jesse settles with letting himself be squeezed.

“I’m sure you’ll recover, McCree. Back to the task at hand though. We have a month to get you ready.” Gabriel lets go, returning to a more serious tone. Jesse straightens up.“I’m letting you know now that this isn’t going to be the hardest part. You have to be prepared for if you get captured, have to make sure you don’t go spilling your guts to the enemy. You know your backstory, but what if you get caught in your lie and they want you to tell them all about Overwatch. This is the yakuza we’re going to be dealing with and an incredibly organized family at that.”

McCree’s stomach doesn’t sit easy at what Gabriel is saying. He can guess what training for that entails and no part of him wants to partake. Too much risk of turning. Too much risk of getting triggered. Too much risk of others getting hurt. Too much risk. Gabriel can sense the change in Jesse demeanor and adjusts for it. He can’t give him the room to back out now from such an important mission. It’d make them both look bad.

“You’re Blackwatch now. This is part of it. You can opt out if you want, but you know what that means. You’re guaranteed to live through my training, you aren’t guaranteed to live through prison. Precautions for any… adverse reactions will be taken.The choice is yours.” Commander Reyes stops to look Jesse square in the eye. Jesse isn’t sure where Commander Reyes comes from when he’s sure he was talking to Gabriel before. The voice and the tone feel like the face of God staring him down. It’s a harsh reminder that as much as Reyes may care, he is still in charge of a secret military organization. He isn’t here to be friends, he’s here to make sure missions go well and the right people die. At any cost. Friendship is just a side benefit. Jesse swallows then nods. There’s no real choice.

“I understand and I’m not leaving.” Just as the words pass his lips he notices Commander Reyes scratch the back of his neck almost mechanically. Planned. Jesse braces at the sound of more boots. A sharp pain spikes in the back of his head before the floor meets his back. Reyes leans down to his level. Jesse’s eyes struggle to stay open. Reyes is smiling. Or is it Gabriel. He isn’t sure.

“Good to hear.” Jesse’s eyes close. The sound of boots fade out as he does.

\----

Reinhardt marches into the Blackwatch quarters. Reyes hears his boots long before he sees him, paired with the number of soldiers warning him of the approach and he’s well aware that the old wolf isn’t happy with him. Reinhardt stops in front of Reyes. He looks every bit the enraged wolf that he is. His nose wrinkles and his lip twitches with the instinct to bare his teeth. Gabriel catches both. Reinhardt’s still aware of the line of authority though. This is not his place to yell and these are not his troops to fight in front of. He stands straight both out of respect for protocol and as a measure of intimidation. It means Reyes has to look up to him, a fact he enjoys at the moment.

“I wish to speak to you in private. Agree if you wish, but I will not be leaving without a word with you, be it in your office or in front of your men. Your choice.” Reinhardt struggles to keep his voice steady. Reyes holds his ground and looks at him unamused. He knows this isn’t really a choice. He either allows Reinhardt what he wants thus undermining his authority, or he argues with him in front of his men which displays a lack of professionalism. Either way he gets this shit end of the stick. The most he can do to save face is make Reinhardt look bad by remaining calm.

“My office. Let me sort my soldiers, then we speak.” Reyes knows what this is about already. The big guard dog must have seen Jesse and decided to sniff out the bad man who did it. His arms fold in front of his chest as he turns to the Blackwatch members who haven’t already found somewhere else to be. “Spar with each other until I’m back. Take a break if you need it. You’re all sparring me when I return.”

There’s a few grumbles, but he doesn’t care right now. Reinhardt has already left for his office. Of course the kid had to go and get tangled up with the big German with an even bigger heart. Reyes scoffs. Couldn’t be easy. Couldn’t just be his. His soldier. His student. His confident. Reyes walks with a calm stride to his office, but his presence is that of a jaguar. Dormant, yet ready to pierce skull of the wolf that has entered his territory unwelcomed. He enters his office and shuts the door. He barely takes a seat by the time wolf starts to bark.

“I told you my expectations that you would not harm Jesse McCree. I warned if you did I would have to take action. Yet I saw McCree today at breakfast. Do you know what he looked like?” The dull look on Reyes face angers him further, but answers his question. “He looked like he’d been broken and mangled and put back together.”

“This matter is not for you to be concerned with. He is my soldier and I will do with him as I see fit.” Reyes kicks up his feet to rest on his desk. He knows the move will only anger Reinhardt more, but it’s a reminder of who’s turf he’s in. A big cat lounging on a branch with a swishing tail. He’s been interrupted during training, a misstep he will not let slide so easily.

“He is a wolf! A young wolf at that. The matter is something for me to be concerned with as it deals with my kind. I may not be his commander bu-”

“You’re right.” Reyes interrupts him. The big cat bares his teeth. “You are not his commander. He is not your responsibility. He’s mine. I’m in charge of keeping him alive. I’m in charge of making sure he’ll make it through a mission. I’m the one that assures each mission is a success, keeping his ass out of prison. I’m the one doing that. You are not. You will never be.”

Reinhardt knows that what Reyes says is true. He’s not and will never be Jesse’s commander, but that does not mean he can’t look out for him. He thinks on his next words carefully. Neither break eye contact while he thinks. Two beasts staring each other down over territory. The wolf’s tail lowers, but only a little.

“At least tell me what you did. Did he turn?” Reyes recognizes the concern in Reinhardt’s voice. Judging by the questions he assumes it’s a mix of concern for McCree and what he may have found out about werewolves. He remembers Reinhardt being unwilling to tell him about werewolves before. He’s never been a fan of secrets. He makes a mental not to see if Jesse will tell him anything.

“The standard. All recruits go through it. Punching, kicking, a few broken ribs, a black eye. Rebroke his nose. He stayed together through all of that so we moved to more extreme methods. Biotics are used after anything potentially deadly or particularly bloody. Medics are always on standby. For obvious reasons I can’t go into too much detail. He shifted and we stopped. Same shit everyone of my soldiers has been through.” Reinhardt scoffs at that. Standard doesn’t mean good. Everyone in Blackwatch was at least twenty four upon entering if Reinhardt had to guess by looks. Most even seemed to have military backgrounds. Gabriel came from a super soldier program. All in all, none are good comparisons to a scrappy eighteen year old they pulled out of the desert. 

“How old were you when you went through it? Were you forced into it because your only other option was prison? This is wrong and you know that it is!” Reinhardt’s hand slams on the desk nearly cracking the wood. Reyes swings his legs down to the floor.

“I never did the training.” Reinhardt begins to open his mouth, but is cut off. Gabriel already knows his question. “I never did the training because I went through it without the training. I got caught during a mission without being prepared for it. It took three weeks for me to be found.” Gabriel stands to close the distance between them, circling his prey without moving. “Cut, burned, stabbed, you name it. You know what rope feels like in a festering wound? Cause I sure do.”

Reinhardt’s posture stiffens as he realizes the mistake he’s made. Reyes doesn’t back down despite the wolf tucking his tail. Instead he goes for the final bite. An assurance that this won’t be repeated.

“You know, he never said a word. The kid’s more solid than you give him credit for. Maybe think on that before you come barking at my door while I’m training my soldiers. We’re done here. Leave.”

Reyes' out of the door before Reinhardt can say anything else. He’s itching for the sparring mat. Reinhardt slips out quickly to find a place to lick his wounds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1st part summary: Jesse and Reinhardt hit the showers after training. Jesse really wants to know how big Reinhardt is cause Amari said shit about it and now he's gotta know. Reinhardt is hella good looking and also hella big. Jesse's dick is about that life and stands to get a better look you dig? Jesse ollies outtie before somebody sees his boner in the middle of the shower. He jerks it in his room but gets interrupted by Gabriel. Gabe needs to talk to him about a mission after he gets dinner. Jesse doesn't get off and has to go to the mess hall with his boner hidden by a baggy hoodie.
> 
> McCree's getting ready for a mission! A mission with yakuza involved! -raises brows repeatedly-


	8. A Man on the Inside

Reinhardt takes a seat by Jesse as he looks out at the field. The night breeze rolls through the grass as their hearts try to calm after a run. Jesse flattens his bandana idly. He can tell Reinhardt wants to say something, can even guess what it probably is. Reinhardt finally speaks up, breaking the silence of the night.

“So you ship off to Japan tomorrow. Are you ready?” Jesse knows he doesn’t mean anything by it. He’s just worried like always. It’s something he’s getting used to, perhaps even warming up to. It’s nice knowing a giant German who happens to also be a giant wolf is watching his back.

“Ready as I’ll ever be I reckon. I obviously can’t say too much, but we’ve been training. I’m nervous as all get out though.” Reinhardt pats him on the back.

“Ach! That is normal. I almost shook out of my armour on my first crusader mission. When you get out there it will all come together.” Reinhardt smiles down at him. Jesse smiles, but doesn’t look away from the field. 

“Hard to imagine somebody as big as you would shake for anything. Also hard to imagine you ever bein’ young and new on the battlefield.” Jesse gives him a playful jab to his side. Reinhardt laughs so loud the sound echos around Jesse.

“You should have seen me back then. I had hair longer than yours! Truly it was glorious… when not messed up by my helmet.” Reinhardt runs his hand over the back of his head where his messily cut grey hair flares up.

“I dunno, I think I like this look. Somethin’ real wild about it. Personally I think a ‘stache would complete the look, but the chinstrap ain’t bad. Damn handsome if I do say so myself and I do.” Jesse’s low drawl raises Reinhardt’s brow. The kid’s flirting with him, at least he’s pretty sure he is. He’d be lying if he said it wasn’t an ego boost.

“I would hate to be presumptuous, but if that is a flirtation then I must object.” Jesse looks up at him questioningly. “It is not that you are not a handsome man, in fact I am flattered that you think I am attractive. You are very young though, it is not something I would feel comfortable with. Perhaps come to me in a few years and we will talk.”

“I’m holdin’ ya to that old man. If you’re ever willin’ you can damn well bet I’d take a ride in that rodeo.” Reinhardt is relieved by Jesse’s grin. Jesse leans into his side for warmth and Reinhardt pulls his coat open to engulf Jesse in the warm fabric. They sit for a long time staring out at the field and the stars and the horizon where mountains meet the sky. The silence allows their minds to wander in peace. Jesse speaks up first.

“You know, you ain’t bad for a pure blood. Still a little polite for what I’m used to, but I think that’s just a you thing.” Reinhardt’s eyes widen. Jesse can feel Reinhardt tense against him. “Wasn’t that hard to figure out. You show no fear about shiftin’ and you’re damn powerful. Something like that comes with bein’ part of a bloodline. I know the signs when I see ‘em.”

“You are correct, I am from the same bloodline that found Stuttgart. I am… not in contact with them anymore.” Jesse nods.

“I’m not on the best terms with my family either. Gang life fucked that up. My ma said to never come back and if she ever saw those Rebel leathers on me again she’d shoot me dead.” McCree fiddles with his bandana.

“Have you thought of telling them you are not in a gang anymore?”

“Don’t know if they even live in the same area. We didn’t stay in the same place long. Hunters, people finding out, or-” Jesse pauses a moment. “-pure bloods, something always had us moving.”

“That explains why you could tell. I’m sorry.” The apology is sincere.

“Aww you ain’t done nothing wrong. Can’t help what you’re born into. Not all wolves see it that way though you know. ‘Sides, werewolves ain’t the meanest thing I’ve dealt with.” Jesse’s thumb runs over the scar around his neck. “Back in Deadlock things were good in the beginning. I was damn near like a little brother to ‘em all. Then we got in a real bad firefight and the wolf came out.” Jesse shakes his head. “Things weren’t the same after. Suddenly I wasn’t a little brother, but a cared for attack dog. Sure I still got to hang around, got fed, hell it was damn friendly most of the time. That didn’t stop them from collaring me or beatin’ the shit out of me if I didn’t go wolf when they wanted me to. I didn’t have anywhere else to turn to at the time though. I was a damn wanted criminal by then. Run and get caught be the cops, come home and face my parents, or stay where there’s food and friends with the hope it doesn’t get bad again.”

Reinhardt’s arm pulls him in closer. It’s the only way he can think to comfort him. Jesse leans into it, fighting back tears. Reinhardt wipes away the few that fall down. In the moment Jesse seems so small to him. Something small and broken. Something to protect, with his life if he must.

“I am glad you are here with us now, even if it did not start with the best circumstances. I know very well how wolves and family can be, but nothing of the other things you’ve faced. What I do know of it, is that I will not allow it to happen again. I know you do not like me treating you like a kid or something that needs to be taken care of, but I wish to keep you as safe as I can if you will allow it.” Jesse nods against him. His tears dry in the cool air, warmed slightly by Reinhardt’s body heat.

“Thanks, Reinhardt.” He closes his eyes, relaxing into the warmth around him. “You said you know how family can be. You mind me askin’ about it?” Reinhardt shakes his head.

“Not at all, things got rocky so long ago that it doesn’t hurt. I was exiled from my pack because they did not like that I took a human man as my husband so many years ago. Many were even less fond that we both had lovers on the side.” Reinhardt looks down at the burn scar on his ring finger. It’s a small circle that most would likely mistake for a wart or mole.

“You have a husband?” Reinhardt’s jaw muscles clench at the question. The wound is old, but still tender.

“Had.”

“I-I’m sorry. Shoulda kept my mouth shut.”

“No no. You are fine. It happened many years ago. I met Wolfram in crusader training, we married after two years. He died at Eichenwalde along with our mentor Balderich and the other crusaders who went. I still have the helmet from his armour, it’s the only thing they could bring back to me.” The back of his hand brushes against his beard. He can feel the raised mark on his ring finger catch against the hairs. His thoughts lead back to the day they marked each other. Neither could wear rings due to their armour and tattoos were a no go due to the crusader protocol. Wolfram proposed a scar, Reinhardt proposed a burn to look like a gemstone. Two heated matches later and they had their rings.

“That’s really somethin’, but, and I don’t mean to sound rude here, you were with a guy named Wolfram?” Reinhardt laughs which is a relief to Jesse.

“Ah yes it was quite a laugh when he learned that I am a werewolf. We used to call each other wolf all of the time, but of course nobody quite understood.” They sit for a while longer mostly in silence, relaxing after the heavy mood of their talk. Eventually Reinhardt shifts to get up. Jesse slips out of the side of Reinhardt’s coat into the cold air. Reinhardt speaks up. “You have a long day ahead of you tomorrow. Get rest, there is plenty of time for you pick my history when you return.”

Jesse nods and stands. He stretches and yawns before patting Reinhardt’s shoulder as a goodnight. Reinhardt yawns and rustles Jesse’s hair.

“You’ll do fine in Japan.”

\----

Hanamura is beautiful when they finally arrive. Plum trees blossom in striking reds and soft pinks welcoming the beginning of Spring while sending Autumn off in bright colours. Gabriel and Jesse stick out like sore thumbs, but as tourists rather than agents. Gabriel’s luau shirt paired with a warm undershirt and sunglasses work well with Jesse’s hoodie, backpack, and cowboy hat to hide them in plain sight. Jesse follows Gabriel into a small ramen shop near the castle they’re supposed to be staking out. Gabriel orders for them since he’s the only one that knows any Japanese. McCree doesn’t even mind not knowing what he’s getting, back in Deadlock mystery meat was for dinner more often than not. Scraped up road kill, old burger meat, any animal they could catch, hell he’d be surprised if there hadn’t been a person or two. His palate isn’t picky and his stomach’s just glad to have food. It’s still not quite used to that part of Blackwatch.

“I think we should take some pictures near the big pillars, huh, Levi? I think the students back home would like those.” Gabriel speaks up, relaying a plan through civilian language. The name catches Jesse off guard for just a second despite their training.

“Yeah I think they would, proffessor. I wonder if they’ll let us past the gates. It’s gotta look real damn pretty in there. I ain’t ever been in a castle before.” He leans against the wall near his seat. The move to anyone else would look casual, but it gave him a view of the street and anyone passing by. Two boys pass by that look around his age. One is dressed in typical street wear while the other looks like he’s been plucked straight from a samurai movie, both have tattoos. Yakuza. Jesse can’t help staring as they pass. His nose twitches, catching a strange scent. He might be able to if he could pull his eyes away and focus. Part of him processes that Gabe is speaking, but he can’t stop staring this samurai-looking kid. Sharp brown eyes meet his own and it feels like he’s been stabbed in the gut. “Jesus.” He whispers to himself. The kid looks away as the two round the corner into the next door arcade. A smack to the back of his head brings Jesse back to the present.

“Food’s here. You can keep staring off if you want, but I’ll eat your food if you do. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Gabriel speaks through a mouthful of ramen.

“Sorry. Just… perusin’ a damn fine sight. Little tatted beauty just passed by.” He makes sure to note the tattoos. In the back of his head he knows the two must have something to do with the Shimada clan. Jesse looks where the boys had been for a moment longer before turning to his food. His eyes scan the table for utensils before he notices the chopsticks. A crease forms between his brows. He’s never used them before. He glances over at Gabriel to see if he can gleen how he’s supposed to use these. He picks the wooden utensils up in his hand and adjusts them carefully. He gives a few test movements before trying for a piece of meat. It twists between the sticks before sliding out of his grip. He tries again with only slightly better luck, dropping the meat from high enough for it to splash. Gabriel looks over as he tries for a third time. His brow raises.

“You want a fork or something instead?” Jesse frowns and shakes his head. Gabriel rolls his eyes before leaning closer to Jesse. “Here. Take the sticks like this.” He takes Jesse’s hand and adjusts it to hold the chopsticks properly. “You open it like this and grab onto the food.” He moves Jesse’s hand with his own and grabs the pork slice. “Now just keep at it like that and eat up.”

“Thanks.” The words are mumbled, but Gabriel hears them well enough. They both eat their fill and Gabriel pays when their done. As they leave Jesse tries to see if the boys are still in the arcade. He can see a tuft of green hair that tells him they are. It’d be a bad idea to go in there right now, too obvious. The two round the corner. Gabriel points around and takes a few pictures. Jesse poses for some even though he doesn’t end up in any. It all has to look right. Nobody can be tipped off that he’s taking pictures of cameras, weaknesses in buildings, vantage points, anything he thinks will help in the take down of the Shimada clan. The only picture Jesse is a part of is his own personal picture in front of the gateway to the Shimada estate. Gabriel rolls his eyes, but allows it. As Jesse finds the perfect angle to take a picture of himself and the castle his nose scrunches again. The scent from before is heavy around the castle, thick in the air like mist. The boys walk past just as he snaps the selfie making the smell even heavier. The same brown eyes as before stare into his camera while the green haired boy makes a peace sign and grins. Jesse saves it immediately.

\----

“Look, I don’t know what it is, but somethin’s weird about the castle and those kids.”

“Jesse, they’re yakuza. Of course something’s weird about them.” Jesse shakes his head quickly. He knows Gabriel isn’t happy that he keeps arguing, but he goes on anyway. Something isn’t right.

“You can’t smell the things I smell and I know that ain’t the best way to figure things out, but listen to me. Please boss, somethin’ ain’t right. Some sorta smell hangs over that place somethin’ fierce and I can’t place it. I can scent drugs, booze, blood, wolves, you name it and I know the smell. I don’t know this one.” Jesse paces the room as he talks. He’s glad they checked the place for bugs before hand and set out jammers. He hates the idea of not knowing what they’re up against. He’s always been able to count on his heightened senses to have the upper hand, know what’s coming at him. This isn’t good. Lack of info is the way the Rebel’s got taken out. This isn’t how he wants Overwatch to go down, it’s the only home he’s sure of anymore.

Gabriel sits at the desk near the window. His fingers tangle in front of his mouth as he thinks over what Jesse’s said. He’d trust Jesse with his life if he had to, knew the kid would gladly take a bullet for him, but this was still his first intel mission. His mind works over the pieces they have so far. Yakuza, weird smell, kids with tattoos, international weapons trading. Maybe the smell is something from a weapon. Jesse has been exposed to the scent of most types of ammo as well as the most common other forms of weaponry. Could be something new though. His eyes stares holes into the spot where the table meets the wall. His foot taps furiously under him. Gabe can feel how antsy Jesse is for him to say something. So he speaks.

“I don’t know.” He hates saying that. It’s his job to know. The entire point of Blackwatch is knowing things and yet here the commander sits and the best he can think of is unknown weaponry. The shocked look on Jesse’s face doesn’t help. “The best I can come up with is some time of weaponry you haven’t been around before. Obviously that doesn’t make it easier since you know the scent of damn near everything the organization has ever been up against. Anything else couldn’t be hidden in somewhere like the castle. We can try to sneak in, scope it out like that, but we go in with a huge unknown. Walking in blind on a bunch of yakuza is a terrible idea with a bunch of people, and even worse with just two.”

Jesse paces for a moment more before sitting down on his bed. His hands run through his hair then rest on his neck. It’s been so long since he hasn’t had an order, hasn’t had Gabriel right beside him telling him exactly what was going on. Not a good first intel mission by any means. He spreads his arms before plopping his back against the bed. He hates having his mind race like this, it’s so much simpler when thinking as a wolf. You’re hungry, you eat. You’re thirsty, you drink. You don’t like where you’re at, run. Something threatens you, rip it to pieces. Every problem is simple and has a simple solution. His eyes widen. What if it is that simple.

“Gabriel.”

“I’m trying to think, Jesse.”

“Gabriel, I’m a fucking shifter. We don’t have to sneak around. At least you don’t. I’m a damn dog Gabriel.” Jesse leans up from the bed. Gabriel swivels his chair to look at him. His eyes scan him over. Jesse can see the internal debate on if Gabriel thinks he’s ready. Gabe shake his head. Jesse moves to speak again, but Gabe starts first.

“That’s a fucking stupid idea.” Jesse frowns and tries to speak again. Gabriel holds a finger up. “It’s the only one we got though. So let’s work it out. We need to figure out where you need to shift where you won’t be seen. We have a layout of the cameras around here well enough. Start memorizing those. A big ass wolf walking past might draw attention which also means stick to the shadows. Obviously try not to interact too much, but if you have to-”

“Boss, I got this. I’ve been bein’ a street dog since I was a pup.” Gabriel sighs.

“Yeah okay, Scrappy-doo. Just don’t get yourself killed. I’ll go the arcade while you’re out so I won’t be far. Can’t have any communicator on you so try and howl or bark if you need backup.” Gabe won’t admit to being more than a little worried. The idea that he’s working with a canine, a can that’s also Jesse, but still a canine amuses him. He shakes his head, thinking on how much closer to a cheesy action movie his life gets every day. If it means that they get what they came here for though, then so be it.


	9. And So the King Bled

They move into position around eleven thirty at night. Jesse stashes his clothes under a nearby planter and shifts without a hitch. Gabriel goes to the arcade and sits at one of the game stations. He surprised by how busy the place is considering how late it is. The place is packed with kids Jesse’s age. In the crowd he spots a tuft of green hair and wonders if it’s the kid he was told about. He considers all the other dyed hair in the place and thinks it could be just as easily as it could not. He decides to keep an eye on him anyway. Gabriel steps through the arcade and into the ramen shop for just a moment. He orders a drink then returns with a bottle of soda in hand.

The green haired kid is playing some retro reboot of an old dancing game. He remembers another reboot of it from when he was younger. The kid’s feet are quick on the arrow pads as the music plays. Every step is timed perfectly and mixed with his own dance moves. Gabriel is impressed. What catches his eye more though is the tattoo sleeves peeking out of his shirt. This kid has to be who Jesse was talking about. He drinks his soda and watches him, pretending to be enthralled in his gaming skills. Within a few minutes the song ends and Gabriel steps up.

“You mind if I step in as player two?” Gabe asks in English to see if the kid speaks it. It’s been years since he’s played, but it could be a chance to learn more. Genji raises a brow at him for a moment then nods. Gabriel sets his drink and backpack down by the machine.

“You sure you won’t die of a heart attack, old man? I’d hate to have to take you to the hospital after wiping the floor with you.” Gabriel smiles at him and chuckles. He does speak English, and well enough to mock others. 

“Perhaps I shouldn’t. I’d hate to embarrass you in front of the other kids.” The kid smirks. At least he’s good humored. Gabriel allows him to pick the song. He makes out the word ‘Electric’ followed by something else he isn’t sure of just before the song is picked.

 

Jesse can hear all the ruckus from the arcade, but passes by quietly through the night. His paws pad softly along the ground, careful to stay in the shadow and avoid attention. He sniffs a few things here and there along the path to the castle in order to keep up experiences. An old woman spots him and gives him some scraps of food. He licks her hand and carries on his way after picking at the scraps for a moment. When he get’s to the gate of the castle he looks around. A few guards walk the perimeter, but none have noticed him yet. His paws carry him forward silently. Jesse moves to the bell to sniff it out, then to quietly around the edge of the property. 

A guard spots him in the courtyard just outside the castle. Jesse tilts his head and gives a small wag of his tail. It seems to work as the guard digs out a few crackers from a side pouch and holds them out. Jesse walks over and sniffs at them a moment before eating a few. They’re a little strange tasting, a bit like shrimp, but Jesse has an image to uphold and a cover to keep. His eyes glance over the guard as the she pets him. She has a gun on one hip then a short blade on the other. He notes to check for the same on other guards to get a read on the typical heat they’re packing. A voice calls over and the woman looks away. She give him a few more pats before running off. Jesse looks around before continuing on.

 

Gabriel’s legs work hard to keep up with the beat of the music and the constant stream of arrows on the screen. He’s only a few ‘perfects’ from catching up with the green haired kid and both of them are keenly aware of it. He can’t peek over at the score for too long though or he loses the beat. He can sense the growing crowd around them. The kid starts adding in more of his own dance moves to show off, but Gabriel sticks with the basics. The music winds down and the final scores come up. The kid won, but only by a few points. Gabriel steps down off the machine and picks his drink and bag up from the floor. The kid walks over to him as he slings the backpack over his shoulder.

“You played well for somebody so old.” The grin tell Gabriel the kid is messing with him.

“Kept up pretty well with you.” There’s a short pause between them. 

“I am Genji. You are?” Gabriel notes him not mentioning a last name.

“Professor Alvaro, but you can call me Dante.”

“Dante.” Genji tests the name on his tongue. “I believe I saw you and a… student? The one taking pictures when my brother and I passed by.”

“Oh yeah. Levi. He’s asleep back at the hotel. I don’t sleep as easy as him.” Genji nods. He looks over towards the door.

“You want to get something to eat? Maybe a drink? It is getting too loud in here.” Gabriel thinks on it a moment before nodding.

 

Jesse peaks his head into a side door way to the top level of the house. When he sees no one he steps in. The wooden floor creaks softly under his paws. He makes his way down a set of stairs and around a corner, following the scent from earlier as best as he can to its most potent point. He spots a shadow heading his way and noses his way into a room before they can spot him. Training swords line the walls. The smell is stronger in the room. His nose leads him to a few spots of blood on the floor. A bad feeling sets in his stomach. It tells him he should leave, but he’s got a mission to worry about. Jesse spots the shadow of the person passing by. He sneaks out of the room when they’re gone and continues down the hallway. The scent is thick the closer he gets to the end of the hallway. A cracked open door piques his interest on the left side of the hall. The smell wafts out of it.

He carefully looks into the open doorway. One of the yakuza kids from earlier sits inside brushing his hair with his back towards the door. Jesse can see his eyes closed in the mirror. The kid yawns and Jesse can make out surprisingly sharp teeth. The fur on his back bristles. Something isn’t right about this and he can feel it in his core. The kid’s eyes open and look into Jesse’s through the mirror.

“あなたは普通の狼集がありませ。あなたはふつうのおおかみしゅうがありません。” Jesse freezes in his tracks. He doesn’t have the slightest idea as to what was just said, but the tone sounds downright predatory. His fur bristles more and his head lowers. “Hmm. In fact you smell like one of the Americans. You must have some reason for being here, wolf- “ The sudden switch to english surprises him. “-but you will not be leaving.” A blade unsheathes from his brush and just barely catches the fur beneath Jesse’s neck. He bolts as fast as his paws will carry him.

As Genji and Gabriel walk past the ramen shop a shorty howl sounds into the night followed by barking. A pit digs itself into Gabe’s stomach. Genji must sense the change in attitude because he stops walking. Gabriel’s mind starts trying to spin a reason for him having to part early. He looks down at his watch and feigns looking at the time.

“Hey it’s actually pretty late. What do you say you let me call it a night then we can see if we run into each other tomorrow. We have a tour to go on early is all.” The barking gets closer followed closely by yelling. Genji turns his head toward the sound of the yelling.

“Hanzo?”

“What?”

“The yelling. It’s my brother. It seems like we both need to cut this short.” Gabe sees a potential in to the castle grounds.

“Do you need help? I can go with you incase something is wrong. It’s better to have numbers.” Genji takes off without answering and is too quick for Gabriel to follow. Instead Gabriel walks quickly back toward the arcade and the castle gates. A wolf rounds the corner and dashes into the arcade. Gabriel chases after him hoping the arcade goers might think it was just his dog running from him. He pushes through the crowd with a few ‘sorry’s and ‘my dog’s until Jesse cuts into one of the single bathrooms. He follows him in and locks the door. Jesse pants heavily. Blood runs over his shoulders. “You okay, pup?”

Jesse nods. He pokes his nose against Gabriel to get his attention then nods toward himself before standing on his hind legs. Gabe susses out between the attempt at walking and the vaguely speech like barking that he’s asking if he should change back. Gabriel thinks on it for a moment, sorting out a new plan. He nods. Jesse shifts quickly and takes a seat on the sink. He’s still without clothes, but they can speak now. “I can explain, professor. I-”

“No time for it right now. We need to get back to the hotel. The green haired kid, Genji, he recognized his brother yelling at what I assume was you.” Gabriel pulls a set of clothes from his bag and chucks them and Jesse. His voice remains cool and quiet, but Jesse knows he’s dead when they’re back on base. After some digging he tosses a small biotic injector over. “ I brought extra clothes in case something happened, biotics too. We’ll grab your other clothes on the way back. If we run into them, you saw I was out and went to find me, got distracted by the arcade. I noticed you smoking outside and decided we could stay a while longer. Heal up, wash off, then we’re out.” 

Jesse does as he’s told. Now isn’t the time to argue even if he had anything to argue over. The injector stings, but heals the wound easily. It must have been one of the knives the kid threw that caused it. Gabriel pulls out some paper towels and wets them to help Jesse get the blood off. He wipes down the counters as well and flushes the paper when he’s done. Jesse quickly dresses and chucks the spent injector into the backpack so it can’t be used to track them. 

They leave quickly with few looks thrown their way. When they get to the planter Jesse’s original set of clothing is gone. Jesse swallows hard. The look he gives Gabriel tells him all he needs to know. The book it too the hotel without drawing too much attention. When they get to their room Gabriel schedules the quickest evac he can manage. A few hours later they’re back on their way to Switzerland. Jesse hates the silence that settles between them.

\----

When they arrive there’s a debriefing then they both get much needed sleep. Jesse spills what he could find out, it’s not much. He confirms that the older brother at least, Hanzo, as Gabriel called him, is a shifter of some form. He can’t confirm of what sort only that he didn’t smell like a wolf. He also draws a layout of where he went and the type of guard detail he saw. It takes an hour or two despite what little information he has, but he tells Gabriel everything. In turn Gabriel records his side of the story. When they’re done Gabriel switches off the recording. Jesse can feel the shift in mood immediately and his blood runs cold. Gabriel stands and walks out the door. He knows instinctively to follow. He’s lead to one of the private sparring rooms. Gabriel lifts up his fists.

“You fucked up, kid. You got barely more than we already knew on them, got caught, and they have your clothes now. Not just that, I had to call for an emergency evacuation. You know how this goes. Fight well, prove to me you’re still worth something.” Gabriel’s eyes meet his and Jesse can see the disappointment. The words bite at him, but only serve to drive anger rather than shame. Gabriel must see it too, Jesse spots the twitch in his brow. “You got something to say? Speak, before I wipe that look off your face.”

“You didn’t even have a plan.” The words leave his mouth before he thinks to stop himself. He doesn’t stop now. “You were pissin’ yourself trying to figure out what the fuck to do. I came up with something at least.” Jesse closes the space between them. Gabriel’s face shifts from cold anger to spitting rage. Jesse doesn’t allow the space for him to speak. “How the fuck was I supposed to know they were fuckin’ shifters? How the fuck was I supposed to know the yakuza kid was gonna sniff me out and chase me down the second I got in the castle? You know what you did on the mission?” Jesse’s finger digs into Gabriel’s chest plating. Both are too focused to notice the growing tips to Jesse’s ears or the additional fluff of his hair. “You played a fucking dance game with some other yakuza kid while I got knives hurled at me. Oh and I almost forgot, y’all were gonna go get drinks too. I’m sorry that was so damn hard on you.”

“Remember who you’re talking to when you speak to me, remember who brought you here.” Gabriel shoves Jesse away from him. The move only fuels his anger more. “I did exactly what I said I would and still almost talked my way into the castle. You got fed scraps on the street and had your ears scratched by a guard. If you did your job right you wouldn’t have had knives being thrown at you. Do us both a favour, hold your tongue and take your punishment.”

The last words are the final straw, too familiar to him. The shift is quick, angry, like Jesse was never human in the first place, only a beast waiting for a chance to get free. Gabriel rolls out of the way of the first lunge, but isn’t fast enough to dodge the claws across his leg. He throws his head back in pain. He ties his best to get away, but the beast is on him in an instant. Heavy paws drag sharp nails across his chest plate. Gabriel’s training keeps his arms holding Jesse’s head back just barely. He can feel the warm breath from the maw inches from him. The snarling is loud in his ears. Gabe chances a punch and lands it on its snout. The beast rolls off him clutching its muzzle. Gabriel hobbles as quick as he can to one of the wooden training poles. Jesse is hit solidly across his face with the pole. He recovers quickly and bites onto it. Gabriel struggles to keep himself standing and keep the pole in his hands. Jesse shakes it furiously before the wood gives in, snapping between his teeth.

“Jesse, stop!” Gabriel tries to get through to him, but he snarls in return. The door opens, but both are too preoccupied with their fight to look. Another slash of claws digs into Gabriel’s shoulder, moving through the flesh to hit his chest plate again as Jesse is tackled. Gabriel follows the movement, but it takes a second for him to realize the grey mass on top of Jesse is Reinhardt. The much larger wolf creature keeps Jesse pinned down. Jesse gnashes and kicks and bites, but Reinhardt holds strong. Eventually Jesse calms and returns to his human form, his clothes tattered and hanging loosely off of him. Reinhardt lets him go and he storms off. By the time Reinhardt turns to look at Gabriel he’s also nowhere to be seen. Half of his chestplate lays on the floor next to a small puddle of blood. Reinhardt sighs.

\----

“You intend to kick him out because you made him angry and triggered him turning into a wolf? Even though you have been told he is likely to change due to emotions? Do tell you are not serious, Gabriel.” Reinhardt’s brow furrows. Reinhardt putting his snout into Blackwatch business is starting to become the thorn in Gabriel’s side.

“He failed a mission a-”

“His first mission of this sort.”

“-and nearly got himself killed. If he can’t handle the task given then he doesn’t need to be on my team.” Gabriel is stern, but his focus isn’t on the words coming out of his mouth. Reinhardt can already tell what this is really about by the distant look. Being attacked by a creature most only knew in myth is not an easy thing to deal with. Reinhardt focuses on the arguments Gabriel hands him though.

“Were you so great on your first mission? Did everything happen as planned? I imagine it did not. Stop letting your fear of the wolf override your view of the man. You risk his life and your own by doing so.” Reinhardt’s jaw sets and his brow creases in a cold stare. Gabriel frowns. His own jaw works its muscles, formulating a retort. He’s never been one to let fear cloud his judgement, but the kid had ripped a reinforced plate off of his chest in an easy swing. The material had been dented and the claw marks wore deep into it. Had the plating not been there he would be a dead man and this conversation would not be happening. Before he can finish his thoughts Jesse walks in and takes a seat. Gabriel notices the clear undermining of his authority, but lets it slide without mention. He knows Jesse’s probably been listening this entire time.

“If you’re gonna kick me out then fuckin’ do it. Throw me to the hangman if that’s how it’s gonna be, but stop talkin’ about it like I ain’t here to speak to. Y’all aren’t the ones this affects. You throw me out and I go right to jail or the Rebels catch up to me and wring my neck.” Jesse sits straight and stone-faced. “Either way I’m a dead man. You’re welcome to have that on your back if you want to, sending a teenager to his death. Same one you saved him from. Same one you keep wantin’ to be grateful to you for savin’. I’m not feeling particularly grateful right now though.”

“My apologies. I could smell you outside, but I did not want to force you to come in. I will be staying even if either of you mind though. You will not be fighting again on my watch.” Jesse nods at that, but keeps his face cold. His eyes stay fixed on Gabriel. Reinhardt can tell the kid is ready to spit venom any chance he’s given.

“No problem to me. You aren’t the one I’m mad at and you damn sure aren’t the one trying to send me to my death.” Gabriel returns the cold look.

“Your death? You nearly killed me. The only reason you didn’t is because I had this,” Gabriel picks his scrapped plating off the floor and lets it hit his desk with a hard ‘thunk’. “And Reinhardt taking you down. I cannot risk you losing yourself during a battle. I cannot risk you killing my men.”

“You seem to be forgettin’ I didn’t do anything until I was provoked. You wanna know what stirred it up? You wanna know why I went wolf the way I did?” Gabriel stares rather than answer, but it’s all the answer Jesse needs. His anger and hurt boils through in his words. “You sounded just like them. Ordering me to be punished rather than hearing me out for a single word. I’m not here to be part of another Deadlock and I damn sure am not here to be somebody’s dog again.”

“Fuck.” Gabriel leans forward and puts his head in his hands. That is a damn good reason for Jesse to be pissed at him. His stiff demeanor drops and he looks back up. “Shit. I’m sorry, Jesse.” The apology surprises Reinhardt and Jesse. “I didn’t mean to bring all that back up. You aren’t my dog and I don’t expect you to be.” Gabriel sighs. “You aren’t going anywhere unless you want to, kid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry about how long this one took to get done. I've been doing Kinktober as well so the writing schedule has been a little hectic. We're about to do another time skip though and with it comes characters interacting who previously haven't, new friendship, and new heartache.


	10. The Threat of Kindness

“There’s a Shimada on base! I don’t know how they got here, but I can smell them.” Jesse breathes heavy, having ran to find Gabriel. The calmly raised brow he receives in return for his news confuses him. Gabriel already knows there’s a Shimada on base. Jesse catches his breath and calms down. “Okay, so you know already. Why is there a Shimada on base and is it the one that tried to kill me however many months back? Hanzo, was it?”

“Angela is restoring Genji’s body in return for intel on the clan.” Gabe answers his questions well enough, but it only spurs on more questions. There’s a lot Jesse realizes he doesn’t know about the situation. It’s surprising what the better part of a year can change, he thinks. For just a moment a realization hits him, he’s been here for almost four years. He wants to dwell on it for a second, but now isn’t the time. Too much has happened just in the last few months that he needs to address now. One of the Shimada turning on their own clan isn’t something that would have happened even a two months back.

“He’s offerin’ info on the Shimadas? What’s bringing that on? Seems a little soon to have people jumpin’ ship, especially from a family business..” It doesn’t make sense to him. Jesse didn’t even talk when they tried him for information on the Deadlock Rebels and they weren’t blood family. Genji is a Shimada, part of the yakuza. Jesse can’t understand what would make him turn on his own gang, especially a gang that is his flesh and blood kin. He knows there isn’t much honor among thieves, but he also knows rats are nothing but target practice in the eyes of most criminals. He knows because if the Rebels ever find out he’s working for Overwatch then it’s a target target on his own back. This yakuza kid is deeper in the shit than he’s ever been.

“That’s where Angela fixing him comes in. You remember a while back when the head of the clan finally kicked the bucket? Turns out the kid’s brother became the new head. Something happened, we don’t know if it was jealousy or some sorta clan business, but they ended up fighting. Genji didn’t come up the victor. Left for dead by his own brother, can you imagine? Of course, that made him a prime opportunity for testing Angela’s skills and for weaponizing somebody who knows the clan well against them.” Jesse follows along easy enough. The brothers fighting surprises him, but not much. Power and pressure changes people. Genji was just dealt the bad end of the stick. The way Gabriel says it though doesn’t sit well in his stomach. A prime opportunity. He pushes away questions about his own way into the Blackwatch folds. Picking up strays and unwanted creatures seems to be an Overwatch specialty. Unwanted creatures brings up another question.

“Did y’all ever figure out what sorta shifter this Genji kid is? I’m sitting here smellin’ it and I still can’t tell for the life of me. Reminds me of the smell that used to come off the mystery meat stew back in Deadlock. It’s drivin’ me up a wall something fierce not knowin’.” It worries him when Gabriel shakes his head. Not knowing what they’re dealing with it bad enough, but they’re doing medical stuff to the man. He could have any number of adverse reactions; shifting, burning from touching certain substances, ineffective anesthesia due to different body functions, or even a mix of things. Angela is putting parts on a shifter with no clue what he shifts into or how it’ll affect him. For all he knows, she might not realize Genji’s a shifter. A large sum of Blackwatch doesn’t even know he’s a shifter and he’s been with them for damn near four years. 

 

“He hasn’t been conscious enough to talk. He was practically dead when we took him in. From what I’ve been told there wasn’t a whole lot of him to take.” Jesse is taken aback by the statement, said so calmly. They had stolen a body and forced life back into it. Not only that, they are also taking that body and rebuilding it with no idea how it worked before. Genji is a puzzle without a picture and too many missing pieces to put together properly. Gabriel can see the discomfort on Jesse’s face. “Look, I know that sounds terrible, but that’s what we do here. We use the opportunities we’re given to get the job done with as little damage as possible. On the bright side, the kid’s gonna live because of us if things go right with Angela. If he had been left he would have died in the house of the people that killed him, right where his brother left him. In this line of work we try to get three things out of any job; the right people are punished, lives are saved, and good people don’t get hurt. You have to realize though that sometimes, two out of three isn’t a bad deal.”

“That’s an easy thing to say when you aren’t the one under the knife. What if he shifts like I shift?” Jesse doesn’t say it outright, but Gabriel knows what he means. What if he shifts _uncontrollably_? Gabriel doesn’t allow himself to worry about that possibility. This isn’t a problem under his jurisdiction any more. He won’t say it to Jesse, but that’s the truth of the matter to him. There’s enough thing in the day to day of keeping Blackwatch together that he doesn’t need this kid weighing him down. Death is in the job description and he can’t let every morally grey action turn into baggage. Jesse can see he’s not going to answer. “If he can’t stop himself from shiftin’ it could rip his damn body apart all over again. We don’t even know what he shifts into and if it works how werewolves work. Shit, we don’t even know if he can shift for sure!”

“Exactly. We don’t know. We can’t do anything without knowing what we’re up against. The most I can do for him right now is tell Angela to give him something to suppress his emotions when he’s stable enough to wake up.” It’s easy to tell Gabriel is getting impatient. His comforting demeanor has turned to crossed arms and weight shifting from one foot to the other. His brow sinks into a hard crease. Jesse knows he’s not getting any more out of this and so he gives a resigned sigh.

“That’s somethin’ at least. Thanks, sir.” Jesse turns to walk off, but stops. “I know I ain’t in the position to ask, but when it comes to questioning him, will y’all at least let me ask him about the shifter business. If not me, at least let Reinhardt. He’s likelier to talk to a shifter than about it than you.”

“I’ll think about it. Now find some place to be.” Jesse nods and does as he’s told. Gabriel heads off in the direction of the medical ward.

\----

“Oh, Commander Morrison, I wasn’t expecting you for at least another thirty minutes!” Angela is surprised, but she smiles. “I called you in because of Project Deirdre.”

“Did something happen?” Morrison’s face falls from a neutral smile to concerned in an instant. It doesn’t help his worry when Angela takes a moment to figure out how to say what she needs to.

“Not quite.” She begins. “The subject has required extensive artificial blood transfusions. Considering the damage done to the body this is no surprise, of course. As you know, we are equipped as any hospital in this day and age is, with machines that allow blood matches to be created at the push of a button. The problem is that he does not have a blood type. Rather, he does not have one known to humans. Artificial blood has still been created for him, but this has been something of an interesting find.”

“So some sort of experiment maybe? Wouldn’t be the first time people tried to make humans bigger and better.” Human experiments are something he knows well enough that the possibility of its occurrence in the yakuza is unsurprising.

“We are not entirely sure yet admittedly. The missing blood-type is not all though. I want you to take a look at these two recordings we have. One was taken in our lab and the other is from a separate lab.” She directs him to a nearby set of monitors and plays the videos. The two videos look nearly the same other than lighting and the speed the cells are moving on the screen. Jack looks at her questioningly. He can guess from what she’s been saying that one of the samples is blood from the subject and the other is not. He is unsure of the point though. Angela continues. 

“The one on the right is blood from a monitor lizard. A local zoo took this for us. The one on the left is our subject’s blood upon being agitated.” She pulls up a third video. “This is the subject’s blood when we began testing it. As you can see, upon increasing activity the cells somehow form a nucleus, something that is not seen in mature blood cells. Mammalian capillaries do not allow for it, the blood would not pass through if we had them. So not only does his blood somehow change from human to reptilian, it is presumably also somehow able to pass through his body unhindered in that state.”

Jack’s brow knits together firmly as he takes in this information. He knows Reinhardt can turn from a human to a wolf and even stay in between the two. The subject, this Genji kid, could be something similar. If he is, it is best Angela doesn’t know. If he’s unable to turn into whatever it is he might turn into then he’s less of a threat. 

“Continue learning more about what could cause this, but don’t halt progress on his body for it. We need him up as soon as possible. The quicker the clan has been taken out the bet-” Gabriel walks in before he can finish.

“Angela, I need to speak to you about Project Deirdre.” Gabriel nods a greeting to Morrison. Both Angela and Jack look surprised by his sudden appearance. He continues on. “When the kid is awake I need you to keep him on something that’ll keep his emotions down, or at least stop the extremes.”

“I think that’s a solid idea too. At least until we’re questioning him. You said whatever it is happens to his blood when it’s agitated to it’s probably best we don’t get his heart rate up.” Jack nods back at hi. The shared look tells them they both know why this is being requested to some extent. Angela makes a note on her holopad.

“I will assure he is stable upon waking.” The three chatter a little more before Gabriel and Jack leave together for lunch. Angela returns to her work on Project Deirdre.

\----

A few months pass before Genji is repaired enough to speak to. His legs are kept deactivated while they don’t know how he’ll respond. Agents come and go to question him until he’s able to recognize which ones are coming by the sound of their footsteps. Steps he doesn’t recognize approach the door. The footwear sounds heavy, some sort of boots. A slight jingle follows each step. The sound makes him curious, but is still a tiring reminder of where he is. The door opens slow and quiet.

“Hello?” Jesse peeks around the door before stepping in. Genji’s stare meets him, clearly bored despite the heavy scarring that could make his face hard to read. Jesse closes the door behind him and takes a seat near the hospital bed. He sets a soda down near Genji then another on the table by his chair. Genji glances over him then scoffs.

“You have come to question me too then, cowboy? What was the name again? Levi?” Jesse frowns. He can remember the cheery green haired boy he saw back in Hanamura. If he looks hard enough he can almost see him still through the scare, but all the happiness is gone from what is left of his face. “Are you going to sit there and stare all day or are you going to get on with it, wolf? You stink up the room. I wish to make this quick.”

“Jesse. The name’s Jesse. Sorry for starin’, just remembering Hanamura is all.” Jesse sighs. He can already tell this isn’t going to be an easy one. He didn’t think it would be, but that doesn’t help much. “I don’t want to be here either and I don’t like what they’ve done with you. I figured it was better I ask you the shifter questions though. Humans don’t really get it, makes ‘em nervous.”

“Hmm. So you had the choice to be here then. And you still have the choice to shift. Both of these have been taken from me and yet you still expect me to speak on command like some dog. Do me a favour, Levi-”

“Jesse.” Genji gives a pointed look at Jesse for the interruption.

“I do not recall claiming to care. As I was saying, do me a favour, mutt, and leave me. Return to your master and do not come back.” Jesse’s brow furrows. There are few things he appreciates less than being called mutt and even fewer things he appreciates less than being told he has a master. He can’t keep his tongue bitten.

“You ain’t the only one with shit. You wanna know why I’m in here? My choice was bein’ sent to a maximum security prison at the ripe old age of seventeen or puttin’ on some dog tags and hoping here at least some big ol’ boy named ‘Bubba’ wouldn’t be around to try and bend me over. Call me mutt again and I’ll assure you’re not getting outta that bed any time soon.” Genji seems genuinely surprised by Jesse’s bluntness, but no less spiteful. 

“You speak so freely for a wolf in the presence of a dragon.” The words are calm, but laced with threat and the confidence of somebody who is used to having the upperhand. 

“And you talk real high and mighty for somebody who can have their body shut off.” There is a long silence between them. Genji is a new beast in the territory of wolves, baring teeth is inevitable, but he no longer has the fangs to bear. Jesse is the first to speak again. “So, a dragon huh? That’s one I haven’t heard of before. That some sort of family thing?”

“What does it matter? It’s not like I am a dragon anymore anyway. I am not even human anymore. It makes no difference what I was because I am no longer.” Jesse feels for him truly. There is a lot of things Overwatch and Blackwatch have done that he disagrees with, but taking away the very thing that makes a shifter a shifter is at the top of the list. It’s beyond his rank though. The most he can do is his job and offer any comfort to Genji that he can. Even that is off to a bad start.

“Have you spoken to Angela about maybe working some way of shifting into this body? As far as I know she doesn’t even know shifters exist. I don’t know that it’d be possible, but it’s something.” Genji shakes his head.

“She has done enough as it is. I will not be allowing further ‘remodeling’ of my body.” Jesse takes a swig of his drink then sets it back down. He can understand the mentality, but he also recognizes that it’s likely the only way Genji will be able to come even close to what he was. He kicks his feet up on the side of the bed. Thoughts cross his mind on how to handle the situation and get the information he needs. He’s been a cornered dog enough times to imagine what being a cornered dragon must be like. His thoughts hitch on the word dragon. A creature of myth is supposedly sitting right in front of him. He knows he should find it easier to believe, considering werewolves are also creatures of myth. The idea of a dragon seems somehow different to him though. Add on to that the idea of the whole Shimada clan being dragon shifters and it’s absolutely unbelievable, something straight out of some old folk tale.

“Look, I can’t promise you anything, I don’t have the rank for it, but I’m gonna be here every day. I’m gonna keep asking you questions every day. The people above me want to assure that you aren’t going to be danger and you want to be able to walk I reckon? Hows about you help me help you. Tell whatever you think you can tell me whenever I visit and I’ll tell them how compliant you are. Hell, I won’t even tell them that you’ve actually been one hell of an asshole. Hows about it?”

Genji stares at him without breaking eye contact. His piercing brown eyes bore holes in Jesse’s as though trying to determine his sincerity with just a look. Jesse can remember a similar stare from Genji’s brother. It feels like it wraps claws over his heart and squeezes the muscles until it’s just about to pop. Genji’s eyes close and he nods. The claws release Jesse’s heart.

“Thank you kindly. I think we’ve gotten enough for today if you don’t wanna talk more. I can imagine you’d like to be alone for the next hour before they send somebody else in to check on you.” Genji nods again. Jesse hauls himself up onto his feet and grabs his drink. “I know I can’t undo anything that’s happened to you and I’m damn sorry for that, but I don’t want you to suffer. I can get if you never want to be friends just know I ain’t gonna hurt you unless you come at me.”

“If it comes to a point that I must cut the throat of everyone in this place, I will assure yours is first so that you will not see your friends fall as well.” Genji’s words have a strange warmth to them. Jesse knows it’s suppose to be taken as a mercy, but he still recognizes the threat. It’s a step in the right direction though. At least he thinks it is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long between these chapters. I'm going to try and get another out before the end of the week because I'll be gone for about 10 days starting Friday. No promises it'll be out, but I'll be working on it.
> 
> Also, there's a Reinhardt discord server for any that are interested! https://discord.gg/3mNdH  
> Come chill and talk about the big dude with us!


	11. Burdens and Well Wishes

**Project Deirdre Event Log _Year 1_**  
\---

 **August 10th**  
Subject arrives on Swiss Base. Subject will be referred to as Deirdre/subject from this point on. Deirdre is rushed immediately upon landing to the medical labs. Revival begins immediately via the Caduceus system. Vital signs return to a sustainable level within an hour, but not enough to turn off the system. A steady mix of the system as well as biotics are used to heal Deirdre’s wounds. It is worth note that the damaged sustained to the subject’s body is unrivaled by any previously seen. Deirdre by all means should not be alive. Extensive prosthetic work is required if the subject is intended to move again. 

**August 13th**  
Measurements have been taken to assure fitting prostheses. Deirdre’s vitals have already returned to average levels. The subject is being held in an induced coma to allow work to continue on the body. Deirdre will not awaken until fully rebuilt. A full design cannot be started until Deirdre is fully recovered and we know the extent of what is needed.

 **August 25th**  
Permanently damaged vital organs have been replaced or enhanced to function better than before. Left eye has been fully augmented to restore sight. Lower jaw has been rebuilt and reinforced. Missing teeth have been replaced. The remaining pieces of Deirdre’s skeletal system have been reinforced or replaced. Deirdre’s body has yet to reject anything in such a way that could not be fixed. Upon completion of the inner workings work will be moved steadily outward. Last will be the limbs and armour plating.

 **September 10th**  
Deirdre is fully intact. Further testing is still required to confirm completion of stage one. All current tests have yielded mostly positive results. Six teeth have been replaced after an incident occurring during jaw tests. One lab assistant was sent to O.R. after triggering a grasping reflex. No other hiccups have come up.

 **September 29th**  
Stage one is officially complete. Tomorrow the coma will be lifted. Access to limb functions will be limited to Deirdre until the absence of a threat is proven. Use of a single arm will be allowed in order to eat.

 **September 30th**  
Deirdre is awake and…expectedly shocked. Medical personnel are required to perform check-ups accompanied by guards until further notice.

 **October 3rd**  
A second assistant has been hospitalized and is critical condition. Deirdre managed to take a knife from a nearby guard without being noticed. Guards will be required to stand beside the door rather than beside assistants from this point on.

 **October 5th**  
Interviews with Deirdre have started. The subject has mostly refused to speak. At first we were worried that something was wrong with the subject’s vocals.We found this false when Deirdre broke silence to mock the interviewers. This...is going to be a slow process. Special Ops will be brought in if this continues.

 **October 20th**  
Operative Peacekeeper has actually gotten Deirdre to speak and give useful information. With this has come a discovery unlike any previous. The recorded reptilian blood is the result of the subject’s ability to shapeshift. This brings in more questions of course. Namely, “How is this possible?” and “Are there more?”. This also brings to light mistakes on our part. Deirdre has been rebuilt without this ability in mind. Without consent of the now awake subject we cannot right this. Operative Peacekeep has expressed to us that consent will likely not be given. In their words “He isn’t just gonna give it to y’all. Not like you asked the first time around.” Peacekeeper makes a fair point. This Project does not stand soundly on moral ground even if we have saved a life. 

**October 25th**  
Strike-commander has been notified and discussions on a mandatory blood test resulted in rejection. More of these beings could be with us. A useful asset if we could identify them. Strike-Commander will not hear it though.

 **November 15th**  
Deirdre refuses to speak to anyone other than Operative Peacekeeper, but is otherwise cooperating. Limb function has been restored. Guards stand outside the door at all hours until trust is established. This, for obvious reasons, has made this a much slower and tedious process to schedule. Deirdre has ripped the artificial tendons from their wrist twice during three weeks Peacekeeper has been away.

 **December 13th**  
Deirdre speaks less as the holidays close in on us. Operative Peacekeeper spends more hours with Deirdre to make up for it. If Deirdre’s intel keeps up I am told we will be moving in on the Shimada-gumi within the next two years. Project Deirdre has been incredibly useful to us. We remain hopeful Deirdre will join us for good.

 

\----

Jesse sits down in one of the chairs in the Rec. room in hopes that the party will carry on around him with little interaction on his part. Genji tore his wrists out while he was gone. The thought weighs heavily on him. He remembers stories of coyotes gnawing off limbs to escape traps. He remembers his own attempt at something similar back in the Rebels. He smiles at those that pass him by. He doesn’t need them worrying about him.

Familiar faces surround him in their holiday cheer. Reinhardt is posing for photos in his Krampus outfit while lifting Torbjorn who’s in a matching Santa outfit. Angela is standing near them with a smile similar to his own. She tense. She deserves to be, Jesse thinks. Jack is standing beside her, but is joking with the others. Gabriel is one a mission of course, international crime doesn’t take a break and neither does he. When Jesse spots Ana her eyes are already on him, analyzing him. Her eyes squint just slightly along with the vaguest tilt of her head. Jesse feigns a smile. He knows it’s not going to convince her. She doesn’t walk towards him though and for that he is thankful.

Jesse lets his thoughts return to heavier things, but he can’t place exactly which. Gabriel is working Christmas while pretty boy Jack gets to stay home. Angela has seen no repercussions for stealing a body and making it a weapon. He had to sell out Genji as a shifter, a crime unforgivable for their race. All of it digs a pit in his guts.

“You don’t seem nearly merry enough for this party, Jesse McCree.” Ana’s voice rips him from his thoughts with such a gentle charm he barely realizes he was ripped out at all. “Take a drink. If anything it might make your thoughts a little quieter, hmm?”

Jesse takes the cup from her hand and sips at it. The cider is warm. It welcomes him as easily as she does. “Thanks, Ana. Just hard to see everyone being happy when you aren’t. Felt like it’d seem weird if I didn’t come to the party though.”

“Nonsense. Take the time you need for yourself. There will be plenty of parties.” Ana pats his shoulder. “Would it help you to go to the range? Give you something else to focus on for a little while? It always helps me.”

Jesse nods and they stand. They slip quietly by all the ruckus unnoticed. The walk to the shooting range is quiet and cold. Cold, snowy wind blows through the open halls between the buildings, chilling them both. Jesse takes in a long breath, letting it sting his lungs. Part of him is glad he has a good coat while the other part wants to feel the cold. He watches as Ana also pulls in a deep breath. She seems to enjoy sting as much as he does.

“It’s refreshing isn’t it? We don’t really get snow back in Egypt.” Ana bends down and grabs a handful off the ground.

“We’d get it in New Mexico, but it’s a lot more miserable when you’re a poor kid living in a gang. When we had enough clothes and warmth though we’d have fun in it.” Just as he finishes talking a lump of snow crashes against his head.

“I guess good aim carries over, hmm?” Jesse is stunned for a moment. “Come on it’s not fun to hit a stationary target, McCree. Consider this training.” Ana grins at him. He smiles back at her and squats to load up on ammo.

“Ah now you’ve gone and done it. Don’t think I’m holdin’ back neither.” His snowball flies right past her head. He rolls out of the way of hers just in time, scooping up snow on the way. His next one nails her on the cheek. Ana brushes the snow away before launching another one. It just barely grazes his shoulder.

“If only Fareeha was here. I’m sure she could best us both.” Ana laughs as she narrowly dodges another snowball.

“She visiting her dad? Bet it’s cold as shit there in Canada.” McCree shivers at the thought. His shiver is followed by another as snow hits his neck.

“You say that as though it isn’t here. I’m sure she’s enjoying it. I miss her though of course.” Jesse rolls in close to her and pulls her down into the snow. “In some ways you remind me of her. Of course she’d never be a scruffy punk like you.” Ana pulls his hat off and smashes a ball of snow into his long, messy hair. He pushes her away playfully.

“That’s just cause you’d kill her if she tried half the shit I’ve pulled.” Ana grins at that, but shakes her head.

“I’ve taught her what she needs to make her own choices in life. Past that is her decision, but I am always there to help her along the way. Or bale her out if it is needed. She’s a smart girl. I only hope she doesn’t follow after me.” Ana frowns just for a moment. “It is not the path I would choose for her or anyone truly.”

“It ain’t an easy path to walk that’s for sure. If she does though I’m sure she can handle it. She’s strong like you.” Ana smiles, but it’s more distant than McCree had hoped for. “ Just be there for her and when she’s old enough to make that decision talk to her about it. Tell her why you don’t want her to it. Either she’ll listen or you were never gonna stop her anyway.” She nods at him.

“You are wise beyond your years, Jesse. Enough about Fareeha though. I’d hate for you to see me get motherly.” Ana jokes, but Jesse understands. People in organizations like Overwatch aren’t known for being open books or letting emotions out. Heroes shoulder burdens, it comes with the territory. Ana, while more open than most, is no different. Jesse rolls away and tosses another snowball at her to lighten the mood.

\----

“Can I tell you somethin’, Reinhardt? And this is one of those things that's gotta be kept real tight lipped ‘cause I’m not sure I’m supposed to talk about it.” Jesse doesn’t look up at him from his seat in the training room, just gazes out at the bots that float around. The cigarette in his mouth hangs loosely. The edge of the filter threatens to teeter out at any moment, send it toppling onto to him. Reinhardt stops crashing into training bots for a moment and looks back at Jesse. The worry is clear on his face.

“Of course, friend. Tell me what is troubling you.” Jesse’s brows pinch inward. His face drops from his question into something more serious. A thought that’s been plaguing his mind for some time.

“Before I start I’m being damn serious about not saying a word. It’s Blackwatch business. Shit that ain’t meant to get out, but I need to talk.” Reinhardt walks over and takes a seat. He nods at Jesse.

“You have my word. Not a sound will be repeated from this room.”

“You ever hear anything about ‘Project Deirdre’?” Reinhardt shakes his head. The name worries him though. Based on the reference he assumes it’s making he can only guess what it’s supposed to be and it’s not good. Jesse takes his cigarette between his fingers and pulls in a long breath. He sighs, letting the smoke spill from his lungs into the air. “Well let’s just say I’m being put in charge of getting info. Normal Blackwatch shit, right? Thing is I don’t agree with what’s been done with the project. Not a damn bit. I know that they’re wanting this person to sign up to the program. Enlist. Turn against what they had and work for us.”

Reinhardt frowns. He can already see why Jesse doesn’t like what’s going on. Jesse takes another puff of his cigarette. His eyes follow one of the robots around, keeping its head in sight like he might draw on it any second. Reinhardt’s eye observes Jesse as he tries to find some sort of advice to give him. He’s not sure he has any.

“You can see my dilema. I’m being asked to hand somebody the same thing handed to me like it’s some sort of sweet deal. Dress up a mule as a prized show horse.” He takes the last inhale of his cigarette before stubbing it out on the crate beside him. “I just don’t know that I can do it. I’ve done a lot of bad shit in my life, Reinhardt. I’ve killed people and felt less conflicted than I do about this. Fuck, I’ve killed kids and felt less shitty than I do about this. Maybe I just feel too much kinship toward Deirdre. We aren’t far off from each other background-wise, close to the same age even.”

Reinhardt swallows at the mention of Jesse killing kids. He know it goes with the territory he walked for so long, but it doesn’t make it easy to hear. Sometimes Jesse acts so normal he forgets the boy was yanked from a gang and put into Blackwatch for a reason instead of Overwatch. He can see why Jesse sees himself if this Deirdre. Reinhardt’s large hands fidget at the knowledge this is something out of his range. With a tied tongue he can only do so much for Jesse. He opens his mouth to give what advice he can.

“I will not say you’ve changed or that you are trying to do better now and that’s why you feel this way. Only you know if that is the truth even if I believe it is. I will say that you know what you felt when this was done to you. You know this deal and what it will amount to. Do you think what will become of this person in here, outweighs what will happen to them should they say no?” Jesse’s gaze casts to the ground. “Think on this and only make the decision when you know the answer. Remember what could happen to you should you refuse to offer them this deal though. Are they worth what will happen to you should you refuse? Even if you do refuse, remember that they will always send somebody else who is not so attached. Perhaps it is best this Deirdre hears it from you.”

Reinhardt can almost see the heavy weight pushing Jesse’s shoulders down. He can’t tell if it’s just the moment or a passing realization dawning on him with perfect timing, but Jesse seems much older than he had before. His frown is long on his face and his eyes look more tired than he’s ever seen him. Reinhardt puts a warm hand on his shoulder. He draws it back immediately when Jesse slumps more under the weight. He frowns. This is something he’s not sure he can help with so he give Jesse one last piece of advice. 

“You know what is right and what is wrong and how to weigh the two. Trust your instincts and you will make it through this.”

They sit for a long moment in thick silence until Jesse gets up. He gives a weak goodbye and Reinhardt waves in return. He can’t help but feel he’s added to Jesse’s burden.


	12. The Tale of Genji

“I got you something while I was gone. Figured they probably don’t give you many sweets with the base meals. Hell, I’m part of the thing and I barely get any dessert that’s worthwhile. Consider it a New Year's gift.” Jesse rubs the back of his head as he sets a few small packs of egg biscuits by Genji. “They don’t let us take much back with us so it’s not a lot, but if you don’t like them you don’t have to eat them.”

“Thank you, cowboy.” Jesse tries not to raise a brow at that. He’d brought things back before, but never got a ‘thank you’ out of it. Genji doesn’t move to eat the snacks though. If Jesse thinks about it he’s pretty sure he’s never seen him eat. Genji eyes over the Japanese and happy little animal icons on the packaging. “So they have sent you over again I take it.”

“Had some business to take care of as always.” Jesse nods. They needed his tracking abilities to find who’d been leaking information to the Shimadas and getting people killed. Jesse could smell the dragon scent lingering on Miska. It was enough to let them know who to watch out for and plan a way to catch him. Gabriel didn’t take kindly to the leak. Jesse’s jaw tenses at the memory of the bones cracking between his sharp teeth. 

“It is beautiful in Hanamura this time of year.” Genji says it like he’s not truly speaking to Jesse, but rather to a memory or a thought. For just a moment he wonders if Jesse knows whether Hanzo is alive still or not. He knows he can’t bring himself to ask, partially out of a bitterness for what his brother did and partially a fear that the answer could be no. There’s a short pause of silence as he contemplates those mixed feelings before Genji speaks again. “Have you heard word of what they intend to do with me when my use against the Shimada Clan is gone?” Genji sighs. “I imagine such a time is closing in soon enough.”

“Well, kinda actually.” Jesse swallows. He doesn’t want to lie to him and say he doesn’t know, but Jesse didn’t come prepared to approach the subject just yet. Genji stares at him, waiting for the continuation. Jesse moves to sit down. He can see Genji’s posture sink.

“They intend to keep me then.” Jesse doesn’t look at him. Genji nods. “Very well.” Jesse knows better than to believe that’s the end of it. He knows the stillness in his voice is only contained anger. Genji spoke of cutting the throats of everyone on base with the sureness of somebody capable of doing so. Jesse knows somebody like this doesn’t just accept being trapped. Genji looks him over. “What else is there? You have something on your mind. Speak.”

Jesse takes a long breath, feeling the venom sinking into Genji’s voice. He lifts his hat and runs a hand through his messy hair before setting his hat down. “They want me to ask you something.”

“That is your job is it not? What else is new?” 

“You’ve been incredibly useful. And you know the Shimada clan miles better than any of us ever will.” Jesse leans in. His hands move to emphasize his speech.

“Be brief. You are grating me with this lead up. It is not as though I will kill you for speaking so stop wasting my time and your own.”

Jesse gives a questioning look. “You’ve threatened it before. Damn near promised it really.” Genji gives an exasperated sigh.

“It would alert the guards outside the door. If they don’t kill me for killing you then they’ll at the very least restrict my movement again. Not worth it.” Jesse would laugh at how obvious he makes it sound, but the clear reminder of Genji’s leash and collar stop him. Overwatch has made a pet lizard to poke and prod at out of a hobbled dragon. He sighs and looks Genji in the eye line of his visor.

“They want me to ask if you’ll join us. I don’t know what they’ll do if you say no, all I know is that they want you. I didn’t want to ask, but I figured it’s best for me to be the one to offer it.” Jesse doesn’t look away from the visor. It’s the closest thing he has to eye contact. “Look, I know this is one hell of a fucked deal for you. Not a real choice by a long shot. I know. I’ve been at the other end of it. I’m just… I’m sorry you’re getting put in the middle of all of this. If It sweetens the deal any you’d be working on my end of things. Can’t get into much detail, but I reckon it’s only a little less shady than what your clan had going on.”

Genji’s hands raise up to his face. A quick press of his fingers releases the faceplate from its holders. He sets the plate down, keeping his eyes closed for just a moment before looking up at Jesse. Jesse swallows. The same striking eyes as Genji’s brother had in Hanamura stare through him. Scars and plating paint his dead serious face.

“Your people have brought me back to life, have stripped me of my power, and have built me into this _thing_. Now they wish for me to be recruited like some soldier?” Genji struggles to be angrier. He knows he’s more enraged than this. His gums itch with a need to snap sharp teeth into something, anything. Jesse’s hands twitch, reading to defend himself if needed. In an instant Genji is cold and calm once more. His eyes close and he takes a breath before speaking. “Fine. I will join your cause. I will see the fall of those who ordered my death, but when I am done I am gone.” Jesse nods and stands.

“I’m glad to hear it! I’ll let them kno-”

“By any means necessary.” Genji says more to himself than Jesse. Jesse cocks his head, having not quite caught it.

“What was that?” Genji looks McCree directly in the eyes. The look is cold, vicious. Jesse swears he sees Genji’s pupils pinch into a line.

“When this mission is over I am leaving. By any means necessary. I will not hesitate to kill anyone who stands in my way, Jesse McCree.” Jesse nods again. He picks his hat up and puts it back on before rubbing his chin.

“I reckon that’s a fair deal to me.” Jesse grins to break the seriousness of the situation. Just as he reaches the door he turns back. “Oh and, partner, let me know if there’s anyway I can help when that day comes.” He tilts his hat before heading out the door.

\----

It catches Jesse off guard when he spots Genji walking into the cafeteria looking like a lost cat, ready to bolt or bite at a moment's notices. He holds a finger up to Reinhardt so he doesn’t miss any of the story when he waves at Genji. Genji spots him and nods before continuing to the lunch line.

“Looks like you’re finally gonna get to meet the newest member of Blackwatch.” Jesse smiles, but Reinhardt can see the nervousness in his eyes. “You remember that project I was telling you about? Well that’s Genji over there.”

“So you did make the decision to ask I see. Well it is always good to have new people at our table. Especially with how busy Ana has been, and you as well! It has been feeling a little empty.” Reinhardt turns to see who it is Jesse is talking about. His smile drops for just a moment when he sees all of the metal and tubing on Genji’s body. His scars are a harsh reminder of a past Reinhardt knows nothing about. Everything about this ‘Genji’ feels brimming with bitter anger, but this is no surprise. Reinhardt imagines he feels much like a wild animal being cornered.

“I wouldn’t put too much on him being the type to stick around the table and chat. Reckon I can’t blame him though.” Jesse shrugs. “He takes some getting used to, but I know you don’t anger too quickly.” 

Genji walks towards them with perfect posture, each step calculated. His eyes keep watch of his surroundings. When he reaches the table he gives polite bow then sits down with them. “By your stature I can assume you are the Reinhardt that McCree has mentioned.” Reinhardt nods.

“Greetings! Reinhardt Wilhelm, at your service.” Reinhardt nods a bow as he greets. It’s not as formal, but it’s better than nothing. His nose picks up a scent around Genji. It’s like heavy smoke and charred flesh hidden just under the clinical scent of the medbay. It raises his hairs and makes him uneasy. He pushes it aside for the sake of politeness. “Jesse has told me that you are known as Genji?”

Genji nods. “Genji Shimada.” Reinhardt’s brows pinch just barely at the name. Genji catches it still. “I am here to eat a meal not handed to me by a frightened attendant, not kill you. It would be a poor choice to fight in here anyway. I am surrounded on all sides by trained soldiers, even if I trust my skills that is riskier than I have any need for.”

Reinhardt is shocked for a moment by the bluntness. “I...suppose that is as good a reason as any. I do not know if Jesse has told you, but we train together on occasion. You are welcome to join us if you like. There’s also the occasional poker night. As I recall, Jesse still owes me fifteen dollars from the last one.” Genji lets out a short huff of laughter.

“You are proposing a ninja and ex-yakuza should join you in your card games?” Genji raises his brow as he takes a bite from his piece of chicken. He seems amused by the idea though.

“I reckon you can’t be more of a cheat than the rest.” Reinhardt makes a questioning face at Jesse. He shrugs. “I’m not saying I do, just that Reinhardt here’s the only one I’d trust not to on any given game night.”

“I was just about to ask how one could cheat and still owe money.” Genji points out.  
“Never said I was good at it either.” Jesse chuckles. “I reckon all the cheatin’ and gamblin’s gotta catch up to me somehow. Rather it be poor hands in poker than out in the field.”

“You take me for the least likely to cheat? Not Jack or maybe even Winston?” Reinhardt raises a brow.

“Jack likes to act real good. A golden boy image an’ all, but deep down he’s not really that above it. Hell I’d wager he’s one of the most likely to…well, other than Ana. Hawk eye like her’s ‘s gotta be counting the cards. Winston’s a fair point, but he’s got four hands to work with and an observant enough mind that if he ain’t cheating he’s a least 12 rounds ahead of the rest of us.” Jesse shrugs.

“You have put a lot of thought into other’s cheating, are you sure it is not just you trying to make your own seem less bad?” Genji chuckles. “Though I suppose a game of cheaters must even out in the end. I will join you.”

Jesse’s brows shoot up. He hadn’t expected Genji to actually be willing. None of their previous interactions made him seem particularly sociable. Then again, his profile pegged him as a playboy before he was almost killed. Jesse grins wide and toothy. 

“Perhaps Saturday night then?” Reinhardt suggests.

“Sounds like a plan.”

\----

Poker nights pass one after another as does the next two months. Genji, McCree, and Reinhart sit on the roof of the base as Gabriel and McCree had done. A bottle passes from hand to hand between them, cheap sake McCree spent more time than he’d like to admit trying to find. It’s a small attempt at trying to help Genji feel comfortable and Genji recognizes that.

“When Jesse first came to this base he was an angry pup. Expected for his circumstances of course, but angry no less. I could smell him from the cafeteria. Of course I had to go see what the scent was about. I like to say it was because I was worried about what was letting off such a strong scent, and that is partially true, but really it had been so long since I smelled another wolf. I could not give up the opportunity to meet them.” Reinhardt takes a sip of sake. “That night we ran through that field down there. It was the youngest I’ve felt in years!” He grins and laughs.

Jesse smiles. “What he’s neglecting to tell you is that i’d ran away probably fifteen minutes after we started. ‘S not so bad now, but I have a thing about my neck and he happened to get hold of it. Couldn’t have known of course. I don’t think I’d said a single word to him at that point.” Jesse’s hand rubs the back of his neck. The hairs raise at the memory of how bad the spot used to be. He pulls off his bandana to show Genji. Scars line a broken circle around his throat. “Used to be a fighting dog in more ways than one. People figure out you got some hidden talent they like to make use of it.”

“Ah yes.” Reinhardt’s grin falls into a faint smile. “Your first year or so here was very rough. I am glad you’ve made it through though.” He puts a hand on Jesse’s shoulder. “I know we have just met not so long ago, but I do hope you make it through as well, Genji. Nobody should have to suffer what either of you two have suffered.”

Genji takes a long gulp of the sake, but appears unfazed. “The thought of ‘making it through’ reanimation is unrealistic. By making me into a weapon, as this organization has done, they have taken away everything. I am not human, nor am I a dragon anymore. I’m not even an omnic. The most merciful thing to do would have been to let me die and even that was taken from me.” He says each word with little hint of emotion. These things are not false nor are they debatable. A statement of bitter fact over soft fiction.

Reinhardt and Jesse both frown, pulled from their merry reminiscing. Genji looks down at the field, imaging two wolves running with each other. He remembers Chasing his brother through the halls of their castle. He remembers claws and teeth clashing against scales playfully. It pulls a feeling from him he can’t quite place from the dullness of it. Perhaps longing, perhaps anger.

“Perhaps it is best I leave. I do not wish to bring the mood down further than I already have for the two of you.” Genji stands and as he does Jesse does as well. He hesitantly puts a hand on Genji’s metal shoulder, something he knows Genji is more accepting of than skin to skin contact.

“You don’t have to run off cause you have somethin’ that ain’t happy to say. You keep all that in and you’ll just hurt yourself in the end. Believe me, I know that little bit well.” His other hand raises the bottle in Genji’s hand up towards Genji’s mouth. “Drink. Sit with us. Don’t worry about the mood. Rein’ and I only have happy things to say cause we’ve spent a long enough time getting past all the bad shit.”

Genji takes another gulp before warily sitting back down. “We knew when we ran into you and Reyes that something was wrong. Nothing we could prove of course, nothing people would believe teens about. I can hear what would have been said” Genji puts on the voice of his father. “Wolves come and go in our city often enough. This is nothing you should worry about. Have you trained today? You would know this is nothing if you trained more, and listened.” Genji’s voice returns. “When I saw Reyes in the arcade so late at night I knew without a doubt. I do not blame you for what happened, not entirely. The clan elders ordered Hanzo to bring me back or kill me. I sealed my own fate by choosing not to return. However, I do think that perhaps it would have been avoided if times were not so desperate for the Shimada Clan. A strong leader is needed in times of war.”

Reinhardt looks grave at Genji’s words. “They made your brother take care of you to knock out two birds with one stone then. He proves himself and they get rid of a distraction for him.”

“Close, but not quite. I was not a good heir. I lacked discipline or interest. I believe the way it would be put here is ‘playboy’. I did all in my power to avoid clan responsibilities. They believed me to be a burden. They do not yet know the meaning of this word in reference to me.”

“Well, I know that part ain’t really my battle, but if there’s anything I can do to lend a hand you know I will. Within reason of me not getting sent to a max security prison of course.” McCree laughs despite the very real, looming possibility of that hanging over him as long as he’s still in Blackwatch. “You mind me askin’ what was your brother was like? I only ask cause I can still remember him chasin’ me clearer than I’d like to. Don’t have to answer if you don’t want though.”

Genji looks toward the lights of the city in the distance. “When we were younger he took me to the city to hear the bells ring out for New Years at one of the bigger temples. It was crowded and loud, but I remember being so happy that he took me. At the time, I rarely got to see my brother as he always had duties to attend to. While the bells were still ringing he told me that he had to leave for just a moment. He’d be back for me and I just needed to stay there. I remember arguing with him. ‘No you can’t go’ I said. ‘You’re never around anymore’. I pleaded with him but he gave his cutting look.”

Jesse remembers meeting Hanzo’s eyes in Hanamura. “Anything like the one he gave me and I can see how that’d stop you.” Genji nods.

“Dragons are fierce. You know quickly when you have disrespected one.” Genji continues with his story. “He disappeared into the crowd, leaving me alone. My heart pounded i my chest like the striking of the bell. Just as the last one rang out Hanzo returned. It had to have been thirty minutes he was gone at least, an eternity for a child left alone. He grabbed me by the wrist and started dragging me through the crowd as tears streamed down my cheeks.”

Genji stopped a moment. The dull feeling in his chest returns. He tries to brush it off. The thought that it should be sharper threatens anger in him that he knows will also be dull.

“Hanzo told me that he had spotted a man watching me as I stood alone, told me he could see the edge of his tattoos. There are many yakuza factions in Japan, and many of them do not agree with the Shimadas. He said that he’d left to lure him away so I wouldn’t be in danger. I could see he was telling the truth by the blood on his hand. It wasn’t until later that I heard the man had also been a target of ours to begin with. To this day I do not know if the man had actually been targeting me and Hanzo was trying to protect me, if Hanzo had just spotted him in the crowd, or if I had simply been Hanzo’s bait to draw the man out. I was ten at the time and Hanzo thirteen.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while huh? I've barely been able to focus on writing for months and I am sorry for that. I intend to continue this fic to completion, but I can't promise when that completion will be. With that in mind, at least 12 is finally done! This chapter hasn't been beta'd or anything so don't be afraid to point out mistakes to me.


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